


Let Me Be Your Wings

by Celerity_24



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types, Thumbelina (1994), Tommelise | Thumbelina - Hans Christian Andersen
Genre: M/M, another crossover fic, fairytale AU, re-post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 25,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celerity_24/pseuds/Celerity_24
Summary: Nezumi and Shion are the prince and Thumbelina respectively. Borrows from all sources, not faithful to any of them. Mostly fluffy, hopefully somewhat amusing as well.
Relationships: Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 94
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to put this back up. Sorry to anyone who was reading it before, I just had a minor panic and suddenly hated everything I'd written. In the end i didn't actually change much, so hopefully this is ok for anyone who's still interested. Please, please kudos or comment if you liked or at least didn't hate this.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, not the manga, anime, film or books.

Karan would never forget that day. It was seared into her memory, the cries of fleeing animals, the thick black smoke that choked the air and the horrible orange heat that had burst from the forest. She had been alone, throwing bucket after bucket of water at the old cherry tree that stood in the centre of her garden. The branches stretched just long enough to the forest border to be in danger, and again on the other side to threaten her thatched cottage. Sweat was pouring into her eyes, running back and forth between the well and the tree, while holding a heavy bucket was exhausting her. The smoke-filled air and intense heat weren’t helping.

Stampeding hooves and an inhuman cry sounded behind her, and she had turned, horrified to see a stag emerging from the burning trunks. His eyes were red and roved wildly as he shook his head from side to side, desperately trying to escape the flames that danced along his antlers.

Karan didn’t have time to run back to the well. She took a step forward, dipped her bucket into the small green pond and threw it over the stag. The stag paused, likely shocked by the sudden burst of cold before lunging forward and galloping as far away from the blaze as possible. Karan stumbled back and fell flat on the ground, hurriedly trying to inch away from heavy hooves.

“Your tree’s on fire” a dry voice spoke. Before Karan could even begin to wonder who had said that, the words registered and she looked up to see the truth.

The slim branches at the very top of the tree had indeed caught fire. Brown eyes widened and Karan sagged in defeat.

An old woman in a dirty black robe moved into her line of sight, scowling down at her. She shook her head and muttered something under her breath, before raising a gnarled hand.

That was the first day that Karan saw magic. She’d never believed, not truly, but seeing the water from her own ordinary garden pond stream _upwards_ , undulating and coiling like a snake, before wrapping around the branches of her tree, chasing away the flames and, well. There was belief and then there was knowing, the fact settling firmly in her terrified mind until it seemed that magic had always been.

Karan’s mouth opened and closed helplessly. Dozens of questions were running riot in her mind, each clamouring to be asked first. Instead, her mouth settled on the one that was usually asked when she encountered new people, although she could safely say that she had never met anyone like this before.

“Would you like to come inside for a drink?” she asked quietly, voice still hoarse from the smoke.

The stranger lifted one thick white eyebrow and nodded jerkily.

Karan rose to her feet unsteadily and walked back to the cottage, not looking behind to see if the, if the witch was following her.

*

Karan’s hands shook as she poured, threatening to spill the tea all over the clean white tablecloth. The witch stayed still, watching her with a steady grey gaze that did nothing to quell her nervousness. She took the offered cup with a surprisingly gentle touch, saying nothing about the loud squeaking noise Karan’s chair made when she went to sit down. She kept her face still, not wanting to betray anything that might anger her.

A witch. There was a witch, an actual witch in her kitchen. Her parents would have had a fit if they were still alive.

For once she was relieved that her home was so isolated, the villagers whispered about her enough as it was. The last thing she needed was to be seen with a genuine witch. She’d be executed on the spot.

“You saved the stag” the woman stated bluntly. Karan flinched and dropped the sugar bowl she had been proffering, scattering white grains across the table. She flushed at her own clumsiness and awkwardly went to sweep them away, but the witch simply waved her hand and everything was set to rights. She cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Karan.

“Oh!” she scrambled to get her thoughts together. “Um… yes?” She hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question. The witch clicked her tongue impatiently.

“Before the tree, before your house, you went for the animal. Why?”

“Erm-”

“I said _why_ girl!”

Karan started. “I, well, I mean, I guess I didn’t really think about it?” she offered weakly. Looking back, she couldn’t say what had motivated her to abandon her own house, or what had possessed her to move _towards_ a frightened, wild animal.

But, as much as she didn’t know the why, she knew the truth. Even if she had had more than a fraction of a second to consider her actions, the outcome would have been the same.

“I’d do it again” she says firmly, straightening up and meeting the witch’s steel gaze with defiant brown eyes.

Much to her surprise, the witch began to laugh. A deep, loud cackle, the kind of laugh that filled the cottage and shook the rafters. Karan smiled hesitantly. The witch slapped her knee, raising a small cloud of ash.

“Ah! You are a strange one aren’t you” she grinned toothily and took a sip of her tea. Karan wasn’t sure what to make of that so opted to stay silent.

After a few minutes, Karan got the courage to ask where the woman had come from. She knew she couldn’t be from the village; her clothes and accent were far too strange for that.

“It’s a long story” the witch grunted.

“I like long stories” Karan offered hopefully. She had frequently traded a night in the barn and warm meal for a good story from a traveller. Of course, she was far too kind to deny anyone when their story was lacking. She had a feeling this one would be interesting though. Possibly worth a slice of cherry cake she’d baked that morning.

The witch settled in the rocking chair by the fireplace as easily as if it were her own. She did look more suited to it than Karan, who sometimes felt out of place being in her mid-twenties surrounded by the trappings of an elderly couple who had never expected to have children.

Karan settled herself on the rug, smiling when Inu, her fathers old hunting dog immediately came forward to lay his head in her lap. The old girl probably hadn’t even known there had been a fire, her sense of smell having faded long ago, along with her hearing. Time had turned her into a grey animal that existed to sleep, eat and bark at nothing. Karan loved her.

She looked up as the witch cleared her throat and began to speak. She knelt for what felt like hours as the old woman recounted a horrible tale in a hoarse voice. Karan learned of how the king was growing crueller, the people quicker to accuse anyone who didn’t fit in of witchcraft, vulnerable men and women made into scapegoats. How the village that the woman came from, a few miles south, had refused to name anyone when the witchfinder commanded them to bring him the witch. They lived just by a natural spring, one that hadn’t dried up when drought swept across the country. Not having been affected as much and living in such a tight-knit community meant that they didn’t believe that there was a witch among them.

Of course, this had led the witchfinder to assume that their little hamlet was the source of all the witches. That some evil magic had protected them and harmed everyone else. He had given them one day and night to ‘think on their sins’, promising to spare any who came to confess before sunrise.

“No-one did” the woman said with a half-smile, her voice a mixture of pride and regret. “I don’t think they really believed anything would happen to them. And they were all too nice to think of turning anyone in.”

Karan felt a growing sense of dread. A part of her very much did not want to hear the rest of this story, but she couldn’t say anything. Not when she had asked for it.

If she clung a little tighter to Inu, well that was only to be expected.

The witch continued her story, no longer looking at Karan but instead staring into the fireplace, the light turning her steel eyes silver.

The witchfinder had been angry. No-one had come to him, no-one had confessed. He was not used to resistance, particularly not from rural peasants. He has ordered the kings soldiers to round up all the villagers and start torturing them for confessions. Before it could start, several jumped forward and confessed, in a vain hope to spare their families.

“It was the wrong thing to do” she sighed, and Karan felt her heart clench.

The clearly false confessions had enraged the witchfinder, and sown confusion among his soldiers.

“Some of them were young, you see. Don’t think they’d been for many of these before, reckon they probably thought to start them somewhere easy. Just a small village of simple farmers and fruit pickers. Can’t read nor write, half of ‘em probably never even seen a sword. Didn’t expect nothing from us.”

Seeing that his soldiers were not up to torturing anyone, he’d quickly changed tack. Now really, he’d said, with that smarmy smile, he wasn’t stupid. He’d been hunting witches for years, he knew a false confession when he heard one. However, he wasn’t going to deny these men and women their chance for death, not when they’d asked so nicely.

“And, before you could even blink, he’d moved forward and they were on the ground. No-one knew what to think, didn’t even have a chance to say nothing before he’d ordered his soldiers forward. The ones who’d confessed were chained up and forced to, forced to watch-”

She stopped, tears falling as she rubbed her hands over her wrists. Karan felt the hot sting of tears in her own eyes, compelling her to leave, to beg her not to finish her story.

But she stayed. And the witch continued.

She finished in a much more clinical way, seeming to want to distance herself from her own words. Karan couldn’t blame her.

The witchfinder had forced his soldiers to round up the families of the confessors, 15 people in total, and made them watch as he burned them at the stake.

The fire had spread quickly, reducing the entire village to ash and spreading to the soldiers’ camp and the forest. In the confusion and panic, she had managed to escape. Walking for a solid week until she ended up in front of Karans’ cottage.

She let out a long breath and looked down at her hands while Karan quickly scrubbed at her eyes.

“Would you,” Karan began, after the silence had grown uncomfortable. She tried again. “I mean, you could stay here, if you wanted”. The offer was sincere, and she thought she saw the witch consider it for at least a moment, before she shook her head.

“You are a kind child” she said with a wry grin, as though kindness was not the virtue her parents had told her it was. “But I have business elsewhere”

Karan felt confused. “Where are you going?” The witch’s story had led her to believe that she was the only survivor of the massacre, but perhaps that wasn’t true. Maybe she was trying to find her family?

Her grin turned wicked. “I’m tracking the witchfinder, of course. If I survive that, I’ll just go and see if I can’t kill the king on my way north.”

Karan blinked stupidly and opened and closed her mouth a few times. No words would come out.

The witch chuckled at her confusion.

“Another cup of tea before I head off dear?” she asked mildly, as if she was taking a casual trip to market. Karans brain whirled, but she had enough presence of mind to offer her cottage for the night.

Now the witch was the one who was struck with surprise, though she took it far more gracefully than Karan had

“After everything I’ve just told you? After what you’ve seen? I’m a witch girl, a witch and I plan on killing your king. You really want me in your house?”

“You’re a guest” Karan pointed out mildly, rising from her kneeling position. “And I might not agree with your decision, but I’ve not got any right to try and talk you out of it either. And you did save my house from the fire. And if you’re going to walk all the way to the kingdom you should at least have one decent night’s rest. There’s a lot of miles between my house and the next place you could stay.” Karan doubted anyone would be willing to take her in, especially if the attitude towards suspected witches had gotten as bad as she said. An old woman travelling alone would raise suspicion at first sight.

The witch laughed loudly and clapped Karan on the shoulder. She spent the rest of the evening watching as Karan puttered around the kitchen, ate with a clear hunger that had Karan resolving to put together a bag of provisions for her. She didn’t have much, but there were some things in her pantry that she’d been holding onto for the upcoming winter. She could probably live without them.

She gave the woman her own bed, not wanting to put her in the barn after all she’d been through. She settled herself in front of the hearth with an old blanket to warm her, and Inu to cling to through dreams filled with fire and screams.

*

The next morning she rose and put together a small pack of food, along with some other things that she thought might be useful on the road. Her generous nature warred with not wanting to give the woman too much to carry, and the small voice in her head that reminded her that she couldn’t give everything away if she actually wanted to live through the next few months.

Karan was dithering over the perishables when she heard a cough behind her. She turned to the woman, who was smiling kindly at her again.

“Sit down dear” the woman said, gesturing to the table. Karan sat obediently.

“Now. I owe you a debt.” The witch stated.

Karan felt confused. “You don’t owe me any-”

“Quiet!” the witch snapped. “Now listen to me dear,” she pointed a gnarled finger at Karan. “If I say I owe you then I owe you. It’s no small thing to be thanked by a witch, girl.”

Karan nodded, lips closed and eyes wide.

“So, what would you like?”

She couldn’t stop her eyes from roving over the frail-looking woman in her threadbare robe. What could she really offer?

The witch rolled her eyes. “Magic, girl. Just tell me your wish and I'll let you know if I can grant it.”

Karan blinked. “What if you can’t?”

She curled her lip in annoyance. “Then you wish for something else.”

Karan thought for a few minutes. Her hand rose to rest on her belly.

“I can’t, that is, I was told I, that I’ll never-” she trailed off worriedly, before lifting her eyes to meet a sorrowful gaze.

The witch shook her head slowly, and the brief flare of hope winked out of existence as quickly as it had appeared.

“Can’t do anything about that I’m afraid. My magics more elemental.”

Karan nodded. She understood can’t, even if she didn’t get why.

“However,” the witch said, digging into a large pocket. “I do have something you might like.”

Karan held out her hand, feeling nothing but confusion at the small brown object that was dropped into it.

“A seed?”

The witch chuckled and reached out, closing her fingers over the seed.

“Trust me,” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “No ordinary seed. Picked it up on my travels through the old forest. You’ll thank me when it blooms.”

Karan smiled back, disbelieving but polite. The woman was clearly more addled than she had realised. Still, it was unreasonable for her to have expected some magical cure for a barren womb. And maybe the flower would be a nice addition to her collection. She didn’t have anything from that far south in her garden.

She sent the witch off with a thank you and only half the provisions she had offered. The woman had claimed that she wouldn’t need much as she was a competent thief. Karan had once again questioned her own morality in helping her, before deciding that perhaps the whole incident was best left forgotten.

An old vase from the shelf was brought out and put in the centre of the table, carefully filled with the best soil from her garden for planting. The seed had still been a gift, of sorts, she would care for it properly.

Karan looked again at the seed, dark brown against her pale fingers and shaped like a teardrop. As she ran her fingers over the smooth surface she was surprised to feel an imperfection, what looked like a small nick or crack in the otherwise perfect seed. Would it affect the growth of the flower? She wasn’t sure but she planted it anyway and cared for it as well as any of her own flowers.

It slept through the winter, and Karan despaired of anything growing at all. She stubbornly continued to tend the small thing and was rewarded with the tiniest beginning of a sprout in May. The sight of the small green point in the vase had made her unreasonably happy, as did each day she noticed it’s growth.

Almost nine months after she had first planted the seed, it had grown tall and a pure white bud had appeared. Karan, feeling sentimental, had leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the soft petals. The kind of kiss a mother would bestow on her new-born.

The flower shook and Karan watched as the petals slowly unfurled, revealing an unbelievably tiny form curled up at the centre of the bloom. The white petals seemed to frame the minuscule figure, who slowly began to sit up. Karan slowly took in the shock of white hair, delicate elfin features and slim body covered in a white slip that resembled the petals.

A boy. She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to contain the huge up swell of emotion within her. A tiny, perfect little boy.

He opened his eyes, shockingly blood red in colour and brimming with innocence. The instant those eyes met hers, Karan was in love.

She reached out a trembling hand, mesmerised by the sight of the small boy as he carefully stood up and walked to the edge of the flower. He stepped onto her hand with no hesitation, looking up at her all the while. His arms were just big enough to wrap around her thumb.

Karan smiled.

Her son smiled back.


	2. Chapter 2

Shion knew the story by heart. So well he could almost picture the terrible fire, the scary yet surprisingly kind witch, the shock on his mothers face as the aster had bloomed to reveal… well, him.

For everything he knew, it seemed there were ten more things he didn’t know. Were there others like him, born of flowers? How had the witch gotten that seed? Had he had real parents, or was the flower his parent? That last question seemed a bit silly, so he didn’t ask Karan that one. Besides as far as he was concerned, Karan was his mother.

His curiosity about his origins was easily forgotten in the waves of love and attention his mother bestowed upon him. They had grown exceedingly close as two people with only each other for company are bound to do. Shion followed his mother everywhere she went, asking endless questions and demanding stories and treats. The two would tend the garden together, cook and bake and other mundane tasks that never seemed dull when they had each other.

Of course, most activities were out Shions reach. While there wasn’t much he could do that would actually be useful, Karan always said he made things better just by being there, which always made Shion feel warm inside. He would perch on a nearby shelf or sill when he worked, sometimes they would talk, sometimes just carry on in a comfortable silence. He had been given all the furniture and accessories from Karans childhood dollhouse, along with random bits and bobs that Karan thought he would enjoy. He had a large silver dish filled with water that he liked to sail in, using a walnut shell as a boat.

All in all, it made for a very pleasant life.

In the evening, Karan would sit in the old leather armchair by the fire, Inu snoring on the rug at her feet and Shion perched on the arm or the back. A large book would be open across her lap, full of fantastical tales and myths, stories of magic and kingdoms, heroes and villains, gods and monsters. Some of the stories were accompanied by beautiful illustrations. Shion would gaze in wonder at the (to him) life size renditions of knights, princesses, pirates, mermaids, wizards, kingdoms, forests and _fairies_.

Karan knew well which stories her sons favoured. She would see the way his ruby eyes would light up at the pictures of the winged creatures, the way he thirsted for knowledge of those that seemed so much like him. He would move closer and closer until he was sitting on the book, running a slim finger over the smiling fae.

He turned to face her one evening while she read to him.

“I suppose it-it works better if two people are the same size, doesn’t it mother?” he asked innocently. Karans heart almost broke at the sorrow in those sweet red eyes.

“Oh sweetheart” she sighed, reaching a hand out to him. He immediately wrapped his tiny limbs around her thumb, their closest version of a hug.

“One day you will find someone” she assured him firmly. She couldn’t believe that her son would live alone.

That night she left the book propped open as Shion had requested, angled so that the moonlight would shine on its pages. His bed was near enough to the window that he could see the garden and the edge of the woods. When he had been younger the blackened trunks and bare branches had made him uneasy, but he had long grown used to them. This night, Shions gaze was fixed on the beautiful illustrations, mind filled with the dancing winged figures.

Unable to sleep, he left the bed and went over to the book again. He smiled at the pictures that framed the story. Taking a step back and carefully glancing behind to assure himself that there was no-one around, he turned back to the central image, a drawing of a handsome fae prince smiling and seeming to reach a hand out to the reader.

Shion giggled and smoothed an imaginary crease out of his slip. The silvery light of the full moon illuminated his smile in a way that almost made him seem real. On nights like this he could pretend that there really was a magical winged fairy in front of him, just about to bow and kiss his hand and whirl him away.

Karan and Inu were both asleep. It was the middle of the night. Therefore, it was perfectly logical for Shion to assume that no one would see him tighten the violet sash he wore around his waist, lift his skirt and start to dance. Slowly at first, then as his inhibitions gradually lowered, faster and faster. Twirling and skipping, bare feet scuffing against the ancient, twisted wood of his mothers kitchen table. His eyes closed and his lips parted while his mind soared to a faraway place, a place where he had wings and was surrounded by people just like him. Shions lithe figure flitted in and out of the silver moonlight, but never once left the sight of the silver eyes that were watching him through the window.


	3. Chapter 3

Nezumi hated the royal procession. With a passion. It was gaudy and served no purpose besides allowing the royal family and the Fae court to show off and pretend that they still had control over a kingdom that was mostly ash. He thought their time could be better served trying to heal the damage that had been done to the forest, rather than throwing some lavish celebration for the changing season. The season would change regardless of what they did.

But of course, his opinion was absolutely worthless. He was only the kings bastard after all. Why would anything he had to say matter to anyone?

Nezumi scowled and leaned forward, urging his bee to greater speed. If he was going to be forced to participate in this spectacle, he would at least ride something that didn’t make him lose any and all self-respect. He avoided looking at the true royal family, seeing their blatant disapproval.

He didn’t have to look to see the perfect picture they made. Long blonde hair, silver eyes and gossamer wings, ivory robes that flowed past the edges of their ornate sleigh made of twisted willow and birch. The pale pristine trio could have flown straight out of legend. Nezumi knew he didn’t, could never measure up to the image they presented. He had half the features and twice the wit of any royal scion yet would always be lacking.

Too wild. Just like his mother.

Nezumi didn’t care anymore. Not really. He had tried, but his ‘family’s’ admonitions and the whispers of the fae just hadn’t gotten to him. He felt more guilty about not feeling guilty, and that guilt level was still pretty low. The wind rushed through his hair, whipping the ends of his grey scarf around his shoulders. He had foregone the traditional ivory robe, in favour of his preferred black tunic and boots and grey scarf and trousers. He knew dark colours suited him better anyway.

Everyone saw him as the black sheep of the royal family. Why not live up to his reputation. He knew (from painful experience) that trying to fit in with those people wouldn’t get him anything.

He stayed for as long as was necessary. Watched as the fairies lifted their wands and made a grand show of changing the leaves red and orange and yellow, as though they wouldn’t have done that without their benevolent interference. As though their magic did anything more than speed up or enhance perfectly natural occurrences.

When the first few trees had started to drop their leaves, Nezumi decided he could sneak off. He’d shown up long enough to have technically participated in their ridiculous ceremony. There was no reason to stick around. He’d long become immune to the sight of green leaves curling up and changing colour, falling from the branches to the forest floor like fiery rain. Seeing it once a year for twelve years straight had robbed him of any awe he might once have felt.

Or maybe it was the twelve times he had been both forced to go along and stay behind, as though they truly couldn’t decide whether they wanted him there or not. Every ceremony, ritual, holiday, speech, any and every royal occasion demanded his presence, and at each one royal protocol commanded him to keep from getting too close to the royal family. The whole thing seemed designed to torment him.

He flew the bee over to the edge of the forest, not yet ready to head back to the Vale. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when he reached the garden until he saw a flash come from the window. Startled, he steered his bee towards the cottage, directing him to land on one of the flowers in the little window box.

Nezumi looked in and was startled once again at another flash. It was the moons light reflecting on the edge of a silver dish, being blocked and revealed by a small figure. A fairy? But what on earth would a fairy be doing inside a human house. Trapped, or, or…

His brain almost shut down. He simply couldn’t wrap his mind around what he was seeing. It was insane. Never in his life had he seen or heard of a wingless, white-haired fairy that curtsied to drawings and danced on human table tops. It just wasn’t done.

Where had his wings gone? Why was he in that house? Why was he _dancing?_ Why, why, why…

Why was he the most beautiful thing Nezumi had ever seen?


	4. Chapter 4

The flash of silver eyes struck Shion like lightning, shaking him to his very core. Not only was he being watched, at night, in one of his most private moments, but the eyes that were on his were the same size as his own. Not the glassy, dull eyes of his mothers old dolls. No. There was something, someone out there who was the same size as him. Maybe the same _as_ him.

The knowledge was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

But fear trumped curiosity in this instance, and Shion found himself falling back, stumbling in a clumsy attempt to get away. A distinct lack of hiding places had resulted in him awkwardly clambering into the teapot, crouched down with his hands clamped over his mouth. His heart sank when he heard the window creak open, desperately wishing he hadn’t forced his mother to stop setting the latch.

“Hello?” a soft voice called.

Shion let out a muffled squeak.

“Hello?” the voice called again. “Look I didn’t mean to, to scare you or anything I just.” The intruder sighed. Unable to ignore his burning curiosity, Shion rose up and lifted the lid of the teapot, just high enough to allow a little peak at the stranger.

“Look, I was just surprised to see a fairy in a human house ok? I didn’t mean to well, embarrass you or anything. I haven’t seen a fairy not from the court since… well ever really.” The dark clothed figure paused and turned, briefly looking at Shions hiding place before his silver eyes passed over again. He turned once more, both hands in the air before sighing again and letting them drop to his sides.

He made as if to leave, and probably would have, if not for Shions irrepressible need to voice every thought as soon as it came to mind, regardless of the situation or potential consequences. It was a terrible habit that his mother had never had the heart to try and break him out of.

Shion hoisted himself halfway out of the teapot, not noticing when the lid fell to the side and cracked in two.

“Are you really a fairy then?” he asked brightly. The stranger turned towards him. He was standing in the moonlight now, so Shion was able to stare as much and as rudely as he wanted. He took in the dark, simple clothes, sharp yet masculine features, long black hair up in a ponytail and disbelieving silver eyes.

“Well… yes” he replied slowly, as though he thought Shion might be some kind of idiot. He unfurled his wings, leaving no room for doubt. Shion gasped and, completely forgetting his earlier caution, bounded forward to get a closer look.

They were beautiful. Translucent, so thin you could barely see them, with an intricate network of silvery veins running through them. He circled the stranger to get a better look and was startled when he made a sharp half-turn to head him off.

“Do you mind?” he asked, looking down at Shion with folded arms and a wry smile. Shion blinked.

He had a feeling that ‘no’ probably wasn’t the right answer.


	5. Chapter 5

“Don’t I at least get a name before you go and start eye-fucking me?” Nezumi asked. An innocent look and tilt of the head told Nezumi that the boy had no idea what he meant by that.

“Oh! Um, I’m Shion” he said brightly. Such a soft name. It suited him though. He held his hand out in a way Nezumi had seen humans do when they greeted each other. He blinked before returning the gesture, trying to be gentle. Before he could think better of it, he changed the handshake into something else, lifting the hand to his lips and pressing a quick kiss to the slim fingers. He had to work to suppress a smirk at the gasp this elicited and _fight_ the urge to touch the darkening blush on the boys cheeks.

“I’m Nezumi” he said, lowering Shions hand but not quite releasing it. “From King Colbert and Queen Tabitha’s Court.” He decided against mentioning the fact that he was Colbert’s son, by a woman who was definitely not Tabitha. That was a bit much for a first meeting.

Shion didn’t seem to know what to make of the information that Nezumi had given him. Still looking at him with a painfully curious gaze, what looked like a thousand questions burning behind his eyes, making Nezumi feel a little uneasy. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but something seemed _off_ about him. It wasn’t just that he had yet to show his wings, that could just be put down to regular shyness. Nezumi looked away from Shion for the first time, finally taking in the small, human-shaped but fairy-sized bed. That meant that he wasn’t a stray fae from another kingdom taking brief refuge in a human dwelling. Unlikely as that was, it made some semblance of sense. But this…

“Shion” he asked carefully, “Do you _live_ here?” It was a ridiculous question. All fae were forbidden from even showing themselves to humans. The idea of one actually having a makeshift bedroom in a human kitchen was pure insanity.

But Shion was looking at him as though _he_ was the crazy one.

“Yes” he said. Nezumi frowned, trying to put it together. It hadn’t seemed that way but maybe the cottage was abandoned?

“By yourself?” he pressed. Shion wasn’t very forthcoming with information.

“Er, no, I live with my mother. And Inu” he added, gesturing to a snoring lump in a basket in the corner. Nezumi decided to pretend he hadn’t seen it. One crazy thing at a time.

Shion seemed to recover himself a bit at the mention of his mother, turning to where a small thimble and a cork had been made into a makeshift chair and stool. He pulled Nezumi forward and mumbled an offer to sit, plunking himself down on the stool. Nezumi wasn’t sure how he felt about this. It was nice to be sitting, and he appreciated being given the better seat. However, Shion was still gazing up at him with that strange mix of curiosity and reverence, and their new position was doing things to Nezumis insides. It would have been so easy to just reach out and sink his hand into those soft, white locks.

“So there really is a fairy court?” Shion asked breathlessly, and Nezumi nodded automatically. Shion made a funny gasping noise and clasped his hands over his mouth to hide his smile. “I knew it! I knew they weren’t just stories! So there’s a kingdom? And a valley? Oh, and is there really a prince?”

The last question made something cold lodge in Nezumis stomach. Of course Shion would be more interested in Cornelius. Everyone was. Who wanted the surly bastard when they could have the happy prince?

“Yeah there’s a prince” he said, hoping his tone sounded casual. Shion didn’t need to know about Nezumi’s bone-deep hatred of the royal family. Or his irrational twinge of jealousy at Shions interest in them.

“What’s he like?” Shion asked brightly.

Then again, Nezumi sure as hell didn’t have to talk about the royal ponce if he didn’t want to. And it really was more important for him to find out why the hell this strange, solitary fae was living in a (assumedly abandoned) human house, apparently completely unaware of the Fae courts.

Actually, that was a point to think on. Shion wasn’t just from another kingdom, he didn’t even seem to know about any of the courts or realms. Or even fae in general.

“Shion” Nezumi carefully didn’t notice how nice that name felt on his tongue, “How long have you and your, er, mother been living here?” He glanced around the dark room again, empty of life aside from the snoring lump in the corner.

“Well I’m sixteen, so” Shion shrugged. “And mom grew up here, this is-was, her parents house, you see? So she’s um, around 40 now, 41 in a few months.” The white-haired boy looked at him guilelessly while the wheels turned rapidly in Nezumis brain. The ridiculous, unbelievable conclusion was staring him right in the face, and he could not comprehend it.

But Shion pressed on, apparently oblivious to Nezumi’s disbelief, telling him how he had been taken by a witch, _raised by a human_ and that Nezumi was, quite literally, the only fairy he had ever seen. Ever.

The revelation would have been enough to make any normal fairy faint, but one thing Nezumi prided himself on was being far more down to earth than the fops in his fathers court. He settled for falling into a confused stupor. One that Shion tried to (literally) shake him out of. Which was _somewhat_ helpful; but having Shions concerned red eyes looking directly into his own, his hands resting on his shoulders while he leaned so far forward he was practically in his _lap_ was… not doing wonders for his concentration.

“Are you ok Nezumi?” he asked worriedly. Nezumi nodded slowly in response.

Shion smelled like flowers. And vanilla… and that train of thought was absolutely not helpful so Nezumi shut it down firmly. He really couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“Shion you realise this isn’t, well it’s not” Nezumi didn’t know how to tell Shion that contact with humans was forbidden. That fairies had been imprisoned or banished if they had been careless enough to even be seen by one, let alone seek one out. He didn’t have a clue what the other fae would do if they found out a fairy had actually been grown and raised by a human. He really didn’t want to think about it.

“Normal?” he finished. The last thing he wanted was to scare the boy. If his reaction to a strangers hello was jumping into a teapot then who knew how he would react to an actual threat.

Shion just shrugged.


	6. Chapter 6

Well, of course he knew it wasn’t normal. His mother had (with much embarrassment) told him the usual way of getting children. While naïve, he knew enough to know that his story was _not_ the usual way of things. Karan had, out of concern for Shions feelings, gently discouraged him from worrying over it too much. There was no-one they could ask or go to for answers, not without rousing suspicion from people who feared and hated any kind of magic. It simply hadn’t been worth fretting over. Not when things were fine as they were.

“Fine is one thing, but Shion have you ever even been outside this house?” Nezumi burst out.

Shion bristled. “I’ve been in the garden. And the forest, sometimes” he muttered defensively.

Nezumi shot him a disbelieving frown. Shion deflated.

“I mean, a little way in. Just, well, only past the burnt bit” he admitted.

Nezumi let out a sigh. Shion felt awkward about himself in a way he never had before. He had pictured meeting one of his own kind a thousand times, never once had he thought he’d be answering the questions. Perhaps that had been stupid of him. Of course he was the strange one, the oddity. No other human in the world had ever had someone like him in their house. He couldn’t even show himself to any one of them for fear they’d take him or execute his mother. And he was very clearly ignorant about where he came from. He hadn’t even known for sure that there were others like him. Now, finally, one had shown up, only to point out how sheltered and dull and wrong his life was. Hot tears stung his eyes. Why had he ever thought he would be accepted by them? Was he even technically one of them? He didn’t even have wings.

Shion flinched at the feeling of slim, slightly calloused fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. It was so, so unusual to be touched by someone the same size as him. Well not exactly. Nezumi would be taller than Shion even if he wasn’t sitting on a higher seat. Compared to anyone else Shion had encountered. He lifted his gaze as his face was gently tilted up, meeting Nezumis steady gaze uneasily. But the fairy was smiling, pity gone from the pretty silver eyes.

Shion did his best to return the smile. Nezumi looked like he was about to say something, until a flash of light and strange noise distracted the both of them. They both turned towards the window, Shion curious and Nezumi annoyed. Shion immediately stood up and rushed over to peer through the glass while Nezumi followed at a reluctant pace.

He didn’t care how it must look to Nezumi when he stretched right up on his tiptoes and pressed his nose up against the glass. There was no way he could keep from looking at the spectacle.

The procession made the beautiful illustrations in his book look like crude sketches made by a toddler. All the colourful lights, silk, jewels…

And the _wings_. Even the fairies who weren’t flying were displaying them proudly, and why shouldn’t they? Shion burned with envy at the sight of them. They were easily more beautiful than any of the drawings, outshining every adornment and gem.

Shion felt Nezumi’s hand on his shoulder and turned to look up at him. It looked like the taller boy had been about to say something, but whatever he saw in Shions face made him stop. Shion just couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“Nezumi it’s beautiful!” he exclaimed, not noticing the strained smile. “I can’t believe how wonderful it all looks” he said. He turned to look out the window again. “Is that your family? Oh, are they looking for you?”

Nezumi shrugged and scratched the back of his head. “Probably haven’t noticed I’m gone” he muttered, shaking his head dismissively at Shions curious look. Shion looked at the fairies again, trying to see if any of them resembled Nezumi. None of them seemed to be dressed like he was, and none of them had hair darker than red, certainly nothing close to Nezumi’s pure black ponytail.

“Oh! Is that one the prince?” he asked, pointing to the broad, fair-haired figure in a white and silver sleigh-carriage type thing, being pulled by a large white butterfly, followed by a similar contraption pulling two older fairies who looked just like him.

“Yeah that’s Cornelius” Nezumi muttered. Shion giggled. Nezumi gave him a sharp look.

“Sorry” Shion said, failing to stifle another laugh. “It’s just, well, Cornelius is such a silly name, isn’t it? I mean, I suppose it’s alright for a prince, and I was named after a flower so I can’t really talk, but I don’t know.” He giggled again, more at the incredulous look on Nezumis face than anything. Hopefully it wasn’t some big insult to call his princes name silly.

“Well, I suppose it’s meant to sound royal” Nezumi said. He averted his eyes from Shion. “He’s rather popular with the court so I don’t think anyone would dare make fun of it, even if they did think it was… old-fashioned.”

“Is he?” Shion asked thoughtfully, looking at the prince again. He only got a brief scan before he passed out of sight, as all the fairies seemed to be heading back into the trees. “He’s ok I suppose.”

Nezumi gave him an odd look and Shion tried to explain. “I mean, he’s not bad or anything. I think anyone would be a little disappointed with him if they met you first.”

Nezumi’s expression turned to one of complete confusion.

“Disappointed?”

Shion frowned at his new friend. “Because you’re more handsome than him” he explained carefully. For someone so knowledgeable, he was awfully dim.

*

Nezumi cleared his throat a few times before he spoke again. He had decided that it would be best if he completely ignored what Shion had just said.

After the court had passed out of sight they moved back to sit down. Shion had been full of questions about the fae, and Nezumi had done his best to answer them all. When the sun began to rise, he finally admitted that he had to leave. Shion was disappointed, but he accepted Nezumi telling him he needed to get back to his own home before he was missed. It took quite a while for him to get Shion to understand that he couldn’t tell his mother that they had met, or about the existence of the other fairies. In the end, only the threat of never seeing Nezumi again was enough to convince him of the need for secrecy. Luckily, the dark-haired teen promised that he would be back the next night.

Karan didn’t know why Shion was smiling so much throughout the day, or why he was so eager to see her off to bed, but as long as her little son was happy, so was she.


	7. Chapter 7

Autumn passed for Nezumi and Shion quicker than it ever had before. Nezumis solitary nature and absolute lack of popularity with the court meant that he could get away almost every night. He would fly straight to the cottage on his little black bee where Shion would be waiting for him, table set for two. They would sit and eat whatever the boy had pilfered from his mothers pantry and Nezumi would patiently suffer through Shions seemingly endless questions about the fae.

It was the happiest season of both their lives.

***

“No, I only hid in the teapot because I panicked. If mom has a visitor I go upstairs or in the garden.”

“Hmm. So what would you have done if I’d actually challenged you then?”

“Challenged?” Shion tilted his head. It was not cute. At all.

“To a fight, airhead. Are you sure it was an aster you were born from? I bet it was a dandelion. That would at least explain the hair, and why your head seems to be full of fluff.”

Shion ignored the majority of that sentence with an eye roll and small quirk of lips that he gave to every insult Nezumi shot at him. “I’ve never been in a fight” he said matter-of-factly.

Nezumi blinked. “Never?”

“Well who would I fight? Mom would never hurt me and if she wanted to I’d never win” he pointed out, making Nezumi feel a little stupid. He leaned back in his chair and traced the flower pattern on his teacup while he thought.

“I guess there’s a lot you haven’t done, huh?” he asked quietly, shaking his head and clearing his expression before Shion could tell him off again for sounding pitying. Whenever he thought about Shions childhood it was usually some form of jealousy for the easy childhood the boy had obviously had, free of the court politics he had always had to deal with.

Obviously there were major drawbacks to being raised by a veritable giant, in a society that either denied or abhorred your very existence. Shion had never had any friends, or even acquaintances who were close to his size, who could actually do things with him. It was sort of pitiful, even if he insisted that he was fine.

He changed the subject and they talked more about inconsequential things, fae customs, Karans baking etc.

***

“So you don’t live in mushrooms then?”

“How the hell would we live in mushrooms? I swear, whoever wrote that book is a-”

***

“Nezumi! Do have any idea how much trouble you got me in?! Why didn’t you tell me what that word meant?! Stop laughing at me!”

“I can’t believe you” Nezumi gasped and clutched his sides… “In front of your _mother”_ his words trailed off as he struggled to breath while Shion glared disapprovingly, hands on his hips.

Every time Nezumi tried to stop laughing he would catch sight of Shions pouty attempt at a severe look and the humour would hit him all over again. This probably would have continued for a lot longer if Shion hadn’t decided to throw a pitcher of water over him.

“What the hell Shion!” Nezumi shouted, pulling the front of his shirt away from his body. Shion folded his arms defensively and looked to the side.

“I thought you were getting hysterical” he said, refusing to meet Nezumi’s furious silver gaze.

***

“Nezumi you can come down now”

“….”

“Inu won’t hurt you”

“I’m not _afraid_ of that filthy mutt, I would just rather not be anywhere near it”

“She’s not filthy! And she only barked because she’s not seen you before, if she was going to attack you she would have already”

“Oh that makes me feel _so_ much better.”

“…so you are scared?”

“Shut up Shion”

***

“So I asked around, apparently there was a race of fae who had pale hair and red eyes living down south, but no-ones heard anything from them since the fires.”

“Oh”

“If you want I could-”

“That’s ok. I don’t really think I want to know anymore.”

“Ok”

***

Nezumi was getting in too deep. His absences were finally being noticed, to the point where his father had actually summoned him to ask him what was going on. He’d managed to fend him off with a few half-truths about his (well-known) distaste for the Court, desperately trying to conceal any hint of Shions existence.

He ended up having to suffer through the lecture. The long, hypocritical speech about how lucky he was that they had taken him in, the constant digs at his mixed heritage and their tolerance of his wayward behaviour. Nezumi clenched his fists and bit his tongue, but the barbs didn’t tug the way they normally did. The sanctimonious nature of the royals had become little more than a minor annoyance, easily offset by the thought of his next visit.

That night, he was going to teach Shion how to dance

***

1 2 3, 1 2 3, 1 2 3

One hand in his, one resting on his shoulder.

Nezumis other hand was on his waist, warmth seeping in through the thin wool of his blue cardigan.

Shion stopped looking down once he felt he’d gotten the hang of the steps.

It wasn’t too hard, all he had to do was follow.

Shion couldn’t handle the raw emotion in those normally shuttered eyes, so he leaned forward and rested his head against a broad, firm chest.

Nezumi stopped counting and started singing, soft at first but gradually rising. Shion didn’t understand the words, didn’t want to. All he wanted was to listen, and feel, and just _live_ in this moment for as long as he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long, my mums been in the hospital (nothing too serious) so I haven't had time to write anything. This is just something of an interlude until I get back into the swing of things, hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Happy Valentines Day <3 <3 <3


	8. Chapter 8

The nights had been growing longer, something Nezumi and Shion both appreciated. Unfortunately the weather had been steadily getting colder, making their situation more and more difficult. Shion was unable to open the window by himself and couldn’t provide his mother with a decent excuse to let the frost in. It had gotten to the point where Nezumi was forced to squeeze himself in through the narrow crack between the top of the door and the wall, leaving his bee to settle in the rafters. And that was only on nights when he could get away. It was now a week before the ceremony to bring in the winter, so naturally the preparations were underway and Nezumi was once again forced to participate.

He lay with his head in Shions lap, eyes closed and distantly enjoying the feeling of fingers carding through his hair while he complained bitterly about the unfairness of the situation.

“Maybe it’s just their way of trying to include you?” Shion suggested placatingly. Nezumi snorted.

“As if” he said. “More like their way of keeping tabs on me. I swear, Spring can’t come soon enough.”

“Why? Won’t there be any more ceremonies?” If anything Shion would have thought that spring would be more cause for celebration, especially after Nezumi had told him how near-impossible it was for fairies to fly in cold weather.

“Tons. But I wont be around for any of them.” At Shions curious look he clarified. “When I come of age I can leave. I can turn around and just forget about all of them, never have to deal with any of their bullshit again.”

“Oh” Shion said faintly. His hands were still moving, fingers slipping through the silken strands so easily, as though they weren’t really there. Nezumi was leaving. In just a few months. Shion felt ill.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice even. Nezumi shrugged. Shion felt his shoulder brush against his stomach with the small movement. 

“Anywhere that isn’t this place” he said. Shion looked down. Nezumis eyes were closed, his brow had lost the weight Shion had never noticed. A small smile played about his lips. Just the suggestion of leaving had left him looking happier than Shion had ever seen him while talking about his home.

It wouldn’t be fair to try and keep him from that. From what he had clearly been wanting for a long time, something that would make him genuinely happy, more so than he would be here. And Shion didn’t have anything to offer him. Nezumi could never live here, could never reveal himself to Karan.

And Shion couldn’t go with him. Even if Nezumi would have been willing to have him along, and it was unlikely that he would, well. A wingless shut-in with no experience of the world outside his garden? All he could ever do was slow Nezumi down. And Shion could never do that.

No, he would just enjoy the time they had together. He brushed a lock away from Nezumis temple, thrilling at the (miserably brief) bit of skin contact. Shion had a whole winter of Nezumis visits to look forward to. Nights where the other boy would forgo his whole life just to spend time with him, allowing his curiosity, listening to him prattle on about his own boring, sheltered life. It was more than he needed. More than he deserved. It would have to be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

Nezumi frowned as the wind whipped through his hair in a manner far harsher than Shions gentle touch. He absentmindedly steered his bee over a low-hanging branch, his mind lingering on Shions earlier reaction. Or lack thereof. Honestly, he had thought the constantly overeager boy would have had a lot more interest in the prospect of leaving this place. Even if he didn’t want to go himself (although Nezumi had been rather hoping he would) he had assumed that he would have wanted to know more. At the very least Nezumi had been expecting to be ‘forced’ into some sort of promise to visit regularly.

He'd spent so much time thinking of all the new stories he would have to tell, all the things he could show him.

But that completely lacklustre response had thrown him off. Nezumi was casting his mind back, re-evaluating all of their previous conversations. Had Shion lost interest in the outside world? Become bored of Nezumi’s stories? Of _him_? Or… was he scared?

Yeah, that was a possibility. After all, Shion had never been much further than his own garden, and that was with the security of his human mother. Perhaps the prospect of going out further than even Nezumi had ever been, with only him for protection was too daunting. Maybe he didn’t think Nezumi would be able to return. A little insulting, but somehow more palatable than the other option.

And easily fixed. All he had to do was persuade Shion to take a small trip with him. Just a little excursion that would showcase what the outside world had to offer, as well as prove that Nezumi was more than capable of navigating said world. He would see that there was little to be afraid of and it might even reignite his curiosity.

Nezumi grinned. The curious looks of the other fae did nothing to dampen his newly resolved mood.

He was going to show Shion the time of his life.


	10. Chapter 10

Shion was having a really hard time thinking. He knew there was a reason, a very _reasonable_ reason that meant he was supposed to tell Nezumi no. A one syllable, two-letter word. It really shouldn’t have been difficult.

But all his poor mind could really concentrate on was a pair of blinding silver eyes and a wolfish smirk. All he could feel was the heady sensation of Nezumis palm against his jaw, thumb brushing the faint pink mark over his cheekbone while his other hand pressed firmly against the small of his back, the way it sometimes did when they danced. He was struck by the scent of leaves and earth and late autumn rain. Shion felt warm. Perhaps it would have been comforting, but that expression, that promising, _wicked_ smile was turning the warmth into heat. A blaze that seemed to run over his skin, electrifying his mind and making it entirely impossible to say that one syllable, two-letter word.

Shion said yes. Feeling extraordinarily aware of his own lips as he did so. He had never been so conscious of them before, but then Nezumi had never broken eye contact and just stared at them before. Maybe he was lip reading, making sure he understood Shion correctly. Although really, they were so close it should have been impossible _not_ to hear him.

Nezumi leaned forward, and Shion stifled a gasp at the feeling of warm breath ghosting against his cheek.

“You won’t regret this” a low voice murmured in his ear, and that thumb was _still_ brushing the skin under his eye, heat was spreading from the hand against his lower back.

***

He still wasn’t one hundred percent sure how it had happened. Was there some sort of rule that if someone looked at you, held you and asked you to do something in a certain tone of voice that you just had to agree? Was this some special persuasive technique that Nezumi had cultivated, a trait of the Fae, or something that everyone did? Maybe it was the last one and Shion was just too sheltered to know any better. Sometimes he really wished he knew more people, besides his mother and Nezumi. Although, knowing his luck he would be just as socially inept and oblivious no matter how many people he knew. Why Nezumi would even bother with him was just-

Oh wait. He wasn’t supposed to do that anymore. Nezumi hated when he ‘put himself down for no good reason’. His mom hated it too, but for some reason it was more effective when it came from the dark-haired fae. Maybe he did have some natural/magical coercive ability.

Shion frowned at the tiny bit of loose wool that was sticking up from his blue cardigan. He’d been picking at it again. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this anxious. For once it was perfectly understandable.

Nezumi had (in a manner that Shion had decided not to dwell on) convinced him to leave the safety of his home and go outside. In a dark forest, in the middle of the night, without wings or any real means of defending himself. He probably wouldn’t have been so nervous if the cynical, worldly fae hadn’t spent half his visits telling him how dangerous and unpredictable the outside world was. And how woefully unprepared he was for any of it. Though most of that had likely been Nezumi trying to keep him from wanting to see the other fairies than anything else, which he had firmly assured they weren’t doing tonight.

No, this was just going to be a little trip, just some sightseeing around a few spots Nezumi had picked out beforehand. It really wasn’t anything to be afraid of.

So why was he so scared?

Some of it was guilt, Shion was sure. Nezumi had forbidden him from telling his mother, assuring him that she would never know he’d been gone, they’d be back well before dawn. Nothing would happen.

Shion got up and went to look out the window again. The sun was closer to setting, just brushing the tops of the trees. Without leaves, it looked like the golden orb was being pierced by the black branches. The white-haired boy sighed and leaned his forehead against the cold glass.

All he had ever wanted was to see the outside world. Now a charming, beautiful man had flown into his life, holding out his dearest dream on a silver platter. What was his problem really? There were no discernible catches, nothing he could have a real issue with.

He smiled. And finally, after a whole day of angsting and picking and worrying, allowed the bright tendrils of excitement to unfurl inside him.

He was going outside! With Nezumi!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I overdid it with the descriptions again didn't I?


	11. Chapter 11

Shion took in a deep breath, holding it as he stepped through the small gap between the rafter and the wall and exhaling a faint grey plume into the cold night air. The cold stung his cheeks. He was wearing his usual plain white slip (that Nezumi called a dress) under a thick red coat and a pair of black boots Nezumi had brought him ‘against the cold’. Shion had never really bothered with boots before, usually wearing small slipper-like things his mother was able to stitch together. His size tended to make things difficult. It was strange wearing something that had been made by people in his size, _for_ his size.

After seeing him fumble about a bit the fairy had knelt in front of him and helped him slide them on. Shion had rested a hand on his shoulder for balance, causing Nezumi to tense and look up at him for what felt like a very long time. Without speaking or lowering his gaze he had carefully done up the laces before slowly standing up. Shion couldn’t be completely certain as long pointed gazes tended to scramble his thoughts a bit, but he was almost sure he had felt Nezumis hand stroke the back of his calf a little before he stood over him, straightening his collar and checking buttons.

It was funny, but it seemed like Nezumi was the more nervous of the pair. Not that Nezumi was as outward about his emotions as Shion was, but after so many weeks in each other’s company he felt he could gauge his feelings pretty well. There was a… stiffness in his shoulders and the way he kept checking things made him seem a little fidgety. If such a word could really be ascribed to someone as cool and collected as Nezumi was. Dog encounters notwithstanding.

He looked out at the darkening sky. There was a lingering violet tinge at the very edge of the horizon, but the rest of the sky was a dark blue, studded with bright white stars. The moon hung high and full to the right of the treetops, an ethereal glowing orb that Shion couldn’t help but be entranced by.

A quiet buzzing noise and faint throat clearing startled him out of his stargazing reverie, and he turned to where Nezumi was waiting for him. His smile was edging on a smirk, but Shion wasn’t going to be embarrassed for being captivated by something so beautiful.

“It’s the same sky you see through your window you know” he said, taking Shions hand to help him up onto the bee. Shion smiled and climbed up.

It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter how clear the glass was, seeing it with his own eyes was a whole new experience.

He settled on to the creatures back and felt a little thrill at the gust of air that accompanied Nezumi who sat right behind him, chest pressed against his back, thighs brushing against his hips. Shion breathed in the cold air, filling his lungs and sparking his senses. He turned slightly to look up at the other boy, who smiled and brushed a lock of white hair away from his eyes before turning his gaze forward, urging Shion to do the same.

They took off.

Shion felt his heart racing faster and faster the further they flew from the cottage, but he didn’t once look back. How could he? The forest was opening before him like a living illustration in one of his books, too many details to absorb, so many colours and sounds and scents. His eyes were darting from side to side as he tried to take in as much as he could. The soft flutter of a moths wings as it passed over them, the way the starlight sparkled in the jewelled webs strung up on the branches, the murky smell of the earth under fallen leaves. And underlying all these new sensations was the thrum of the bee he sat on, and Nezumis steady heartbeat against his back.

The whole place was so colourful, vibrant, _alive_. It was almost too much to bear, certainly would have been if he’d been on his own, but the solid guiding presence behind him kept him grounded (figuratively speaking). Shion felt far more alive, more excited than he had in his whole life, but he never once felt unsafe. Not with Nezumi.

They moved through the trees, further and further in, the bee being steered by some unseen commands that Shion couldn’t figure out, until they reached a little glade and Nezumi went to land. The bee landed on a rock at the edge of a large silver pond and Nezumi jumped off and reached up to help Shion down. Shion didn’t think that he need all that much help, but something told him to be quiet. Something that rather enjoyed the feel of hands around his waist.

“We have to stop every now and then or she gets tired” Nezumi explained.

“Oh” Shion mumbled, too busy looking around the new setting to really pay attention. The pond was beautiful. It was seemingly fed by a river that had been partially diverted by a fallen tree and pooled in a little dip in the clearing. Part of it was edged by smooth grey pebbles, one of which the bee had settled on to rest its-no _her_ wings. Shion frowned.

“I thought female bees were queens” Shion said, looking puzzled. Nezumi shrugged.

“She was supposed to be, I guess. She was just a baby when I found her. Hive was caught in the fire. So I just kind of… kept her.” Nezumi felt awkward, confessing this to Shion. It wasn’t exactly sensitive information, but he had an overactive imagination (doubtless a result of being a shut-in) and a tendency to take things the wrong way. It was highly likely that he would now construct some elaborate, poetic mental image of a young, recently orphaned Nezumi, the last of his kind, saving and adopting an animal in the same situation. Which was incredibly annoying, because Nezumi was doing his hardest to make sure that Shion had no reason to pity him.

Though to Shions credit, it didn’t seem to matter what he told him. He always acted the same way. That way was incredibly idiotic and naïve, but rarely if ever pitying and never condescending.

Shion moved down to the waters edge and knelt by the surface. Nezumi followed him and knelt opposite. He looked at their reflections. They both looked so different. Shions white hair had turned silver in the moonlight, his eyes looked darker than Nezumi had ever seen them. Like blood taken straight from the vein. His skin was flushed pink either from cold or exertion, highlighting the scar that (apparently) ran around his entire body. Of course, Nezumi had only ever seen the beginning, the little smudge under his eye and the line over his throat.

He looked at his own watery visage. If someone had looked at Shion and then demanded the complete opposite, they would have gotten him. His hair was dark, darker than the midnight sky, long and heavy where Shions was light and springy. His eyes were sharp and glinted like cold steel, his skin was flawless dull ivory. Of course, he had his own scars. But the knots and patches of burned flesh on his back were nothing like the red snake that coiled around the other boy. It was horribly unfair that something like a scar, something that was meant to be ugly would look pretty on Shion.

Nezumi shook his head, dismissing the juvenile thoughts. He had long let go of any immature, pointless thoughts about his scarring. And it was hardly Shions fault if he was attractive.

And besides. If he was remembering correctly (though it seemed like it was long ago) Shion actually liked how he looked. Preferred him over the royal scion.

Nezumi smiled as Shion leaned down and touched the surface of the water, laughed out loud when he shrieked and fell back as the frog that had been lurking below sprang up at him. Shion glared and stalked off, head hunched and shoulders stiff. He relaxed when Nezumi slid his arms around him and murmured an apology into his hair. It was far too easy to pull him back into happiness. He walked him partway around the glade – making sure to steer clear of what was now a whole _family_ of frogs – and pointed out anything he thought Shion would find interesting.

Given that they were well into autumn and on the brink of winter, there wasn’t much. No flowers, or birds (not that there would have been at night) or the other things he’d spent hours impressing Shion with his knowledge of. Thankfully, there was still enough to keep him interested.

It was easy to impress Shion, but still fun.

They flew away from the glade, zipping between the branches and looping through the hanging ivy. Shion laughed louder than he ever had, high and clear and whipped away by the wind. A field of giant pumpkins was spread out below them, they landed on the largest and Nezumi got down. He hooked an arm around Shions waist and pulled him down onto the orange dome.

Shion gasped as he was practically flung to the side, slipping away from Nezumi until one hand was stretched out to the side, the other barely hanging on to him. He barely had time to register this before he was pulled back and slammed up against a hard chest, hand reaching up automatically to wrap around Nezumis neck. His left arm was pressed against Nezumis right, hand resting on his shoulder while his fingertips brushed the base of his hairline.

There was starlight in his silver eyes, but he barely had time to see it before they closed and his face moved closer. His eyelashes were so dark.

Then Shions eyes were closing. A hand touched his chin, tilting his head up.

A pair of warm lips pressed against his.

Shion knew Nezumi would laugh at him if he even attempted to articulate how he felt right then. The absolute worst, most cliched and tired metaphors were bouncing around behind his lips, demanding to be spoken and create embarrassment.

But for once Shion didn’t feel like talking. So he reached up and wrapped both arms firmly around the other boy and kissed for all he was worth.


	12. Chapter 12

The few hours they had spent outside felt far too short, yet so much had changed between them it could have easily been a lifetime. They alighted on the beam and Nezumi leapt down, immediately turning to help Shion down from the bee. His hands didn’t let go once he was off, one remained on the small of his back while the other slid upward to cup the back of his head. Shions arms were looped around Nezumis shoulders under his grey scarf. He could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He shivered.

Nezumi grinned and leaned down for another kiss. Shion was unable (and entirely unwilling) to push him away. They stood in the eaves for a while, just holding and enjoying the taste of each other, neither wanting to stop the new flood of sensation. It was more wonderful and more awkward than either of them had imagined. Shion had only been slightly aware of what kissing was; it certainly wasn’t an activity he was familiar with. He hadn’t even known you were supposed to open your mouth.

Nezumi had chuckled and murmured ‘so innocent’ against his lips before swiping his tongue across them and stepping forward, moving Shion until his back was pressed against the wall.

They might have continued like that for some time had Shion not seen the first rays of dawn rise over Nezumis shoulders.

Nezumi had pulled away from him with a reluctance that warmed Shion inside and out.

“Please come with me” he whispered into Shions neck. He felt himself tense at the quiet plea.

“I don’t know, Nezumi. The world is all so… big. And my mother-”

“I know” he said quickly, pinning Shion with an urgent look. “But Shion, I just can’t leave without you. I know it’s crazy. The world is huge, and dangerous and I’d be asking you to give up everything. But Shion” he paused and gave a little half-smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “You know I had to ask.”

Shion felt his heart stutter behind his ribcage. It wasn’t fair really; the way a smile could make you abandon any semblance of logic or good decision making.

“Ok”

Nezumi blinked and looked delightfully confused. Shion smiled. The fact that he clearly hadn’t been sure he would say yes made him want to go even more.

“You have to bring me back to see my mother sometimes though.” Shion wouldn’t budge on that.

“Of course, definitely. Anything.” Nezumi nodded eagerly, as though he still didn’t quite believe Shion had said yes.

“And you should probably meet her too, before we go. At least once.”

The fairy winced at the idea of breaking the one rule that had been drilled into him as far back as he could remember, but he would do anything to keep this wispy-haired, red-eyed boy by his side. If breaking Fae law was the only way he would do it. It wasn’t like either of them would have to worry about the court anymore.

“Tomorrow then?” he asked.

“Well, you can come by tomorrow, but just come at night like usual. I need some time to prepare mother for meeting you. I think when you meet it should be during the day, and she should know who’s coming.”

Nezumi smiled and escorted Shion down to his makeshift room in the kitchen. The sun had almost fully risen and it was getting dangerously close to the time when Karan would be coming downstairs. They both talked further about their future plans, where they would go and how often they would return. When Nezumi started to debate whether or not the coming spring weather would justify shared sleeping arrangements Shion decided it was time for him to leave.

He stretched up with the intention of pressing a short farewell kiss to his cheek, only for it to somehow turn into him pressed flat against a hard surface with Nezumis hands on his thighs. It took the sound of his mothers footsteps above them for them to finally break apart and Nezumi to take his urging seriously. Honestly, when they first met the mere suggestion of Karans presence had been enough to make him steer clear of the cottage for nights at a time, now he was risking discovery for the sake of a kiss?

Well in all honesty, Shion would probably do the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone miss me? Ha, just a short chapter to get us back into the swing of things. Sorry I left this for so long, just had a massive case of writers block, bad grades on my assignments and a bunch of other real life problems. 
> 
> If any of you guys are still interested in seeing this fic completed please do let me know.


	13. Chapter 13

Karan sighed as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Winter had well and truly settled into her bones, and she wasn’t sure the coming spring would melt it away this time. God she was getting old.

She looked over to where her son was perched on the sill, looking out into the frosted garden. His blue cardigan was specked here and there with dirt, his bright excited face framed by windswept hair. It was so, so obvious. To the point where she was actually somewhat insulted that he thought she didn’t know. Either he thought her to be ridiculously naive or he was more innocent than she realised. Perhaps she had kept him too sheltered, but there hadn’t really been any other options.

Karan groaned inwardly, clutching the gnarled banister with desperate fingers. This was not a conversation she was looking forward to. But over the past few weeks she had realised that it was necessary.

_This is all part and parcel of being a parent_ she told herself firmly. _It’s what you signed up for._

She straightened her aching back and walked over to her son, who turned to smile as sweetly and innocently as he always did. Making some pretence at having risen early to watch the sun rise. As if she didn’t know he’d been out all night gallivanting with some mysterious winged boy (who had quite the vocabulary from what she could tell).

“Shion darling” she smiled, moving over to sit at the table. The chair squeaked against the tiles, but the solid oak bore her meagre weight quite easily. “I think we might need to have a little talk.”

“About what?” he asked, looking adorably puzzled. Oh, this was going to be difficult. But it needed to be done. The boys lips were swollen, and she knew that didn’t come from the wind.

“About the ah, the _birds and bees”_ she said, trying and failing to sound casual. Shion wrinkled his nose.

“I already know about all that mother” he said airily.

“You do?” Karan started. Oh god they’d… she couldn’t believe that, not of her little boy, not her innocent little flower baby.

“Well yes” Shion said. “There’s that swallow who nests in the chimney and other birds in the forest and in books. And I know how bees work.”

Karan opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out. It was astounding, simply astounding that Shion was this clueless. Actually no, no it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or alarmed. This did mean that Shion was likely not as… experienced as she had feared, but it made her job of explaining the matter to him at least ten times more difficult.

Good grief. If she had not been blessed with such an obedient, well-mannered son then this would not be happening. He would have already discovered such things for himself. Or at least shown some degree of curiosity about them.

She breathed out slowly. All she really had to do was start simply.

“Shion, you remember how you came to me, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Well for humans it works a little differently. You see…”


	14. Chapter 14

Shion couldn’t sleep. The traumatising (yet informative) conversation he’d had with his mother that morning was still playing in his mind. The revelation that he had not been as secretive as he thought he had was bothering him. And tonight was the night that Nezumi was taking him for a second ride around the forest, returning in the morning to officially meet his mother. Somehow Shion was going to have to explain to him that his mother already knew about him. And what they… were to each other.

Well, Shion wasn’t entirely sure of that himself. They had kissed, a lot, and Nezumi wanted him to go with him when he left the court. That obviously meant something. And he hadn’t said anything about bringing anyone else or visiting anyone in particular. But Nezumi hadn’t explicitly said exactly why he wanted Shion with him either.

He frowned, fiddling with the hem of his slip. It was all white, with a scrap of red ribbon serving as a belt around the waist. He wondered if it would be ok to be seen in such clothing. Nezumi had, not in so many words, led him to understand that there were certain standards in clothing amongst the Fae. Traditions that he wasn’t following.

But his clothes had all been made by his mother, re-purposed from her old dolls. And she found sewing for such a small figure difficult. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to dress the way Nezumi did. He always thought he looked wonderful, of course, but those trousers looked awfully uncomfortable in his eyes.

Shion sighed and looked out again at the darkening sky. Nezumi wasn’t normally this late, except on nights when he was held up by the other Fae. He hoped that wasn’t what had happened this time. If so, it might be a whole day and night before they could see each other again.

There was a thump outside, and Shions heart resumed it’s normal pace. He glanced at his reflection in the silver tray on the table, straightening his slip and running fingers through his hair in a vague attempt to get it looking normal. Giving up he smiled and turned towards the window, where he could just make out a shadowy figure through the glass.

“Nezumi” he breathed, rushing to the narrow opening and squeezing himself through, ready to throw himself into the other boys arms and-

A fat, swamp green frog squatted on the window ledge, large yellow eyes rolling unpleasantly. As soon as Shion appeared both eyes snapped forward and fixed on him.

“Oh” Shin said quietly, taking a step back. The frog let out a low croak.

Shion didn’t know what to do. As far as he was aware there was nothing especially dangerous about a frog, but he had never seen one right outside his house before. It was slightly taller than he was and a _lot_ wider, and the steady, sickly yellow gaze was making him feel uncomfortable. He desperately wished he hadn’t run out of his house at the first noise, blindly assuming it was Nezumi.

The frog continued to stare and Shion watched in horror as its mouth widened and a long pink tongue protruded from it. The air around him grew colder. Shion wondered if he could make it back inside before the slimy creature touched him. What on earth could it even want?

He stepped back again, keeping his eyes on the frog. It let out another deep croak.

Shion panicked. He turned and tried to run back to the house, only for a slimy appendage to reach out and close around his waist, pulling him away from the window. The frog leapt down into the garden and hopped away into the forest, carrying the screaming boy with him. Shion cried as the wind whipped his face. He called for Nezumi, for his mother, for _anyone_ to save him.

But no-one came.


	15. Chapter 15

A few scraps of red ribbon hanging limply from the ledge. That was all that was left. No signs of a struggle, nothing amiss except for the giant barking dog that was pawing madly at the window.

Nezumi felt his heart sink low inside his chest, settling somewhere in his gut. This was all his fault. He’d dragged Shion out into the world. The big, wide, _dangerous_ world. A world he’d had no intention of entering before they’d met.

The barking stopped suddenly. Nezumi looked up, catching sight of a large, human figure coaxing the animal back into the house. He watched in silence as she searched the room, movements growing more and more frantic as she looked for someone. Someone tiny. Someone who was no longer there.

The frayed red threads glared at him. He reached down and carefully disentangled them from the splintery wood. Straightening up, he allowed himself to make the comparison. The same shade as Shions eyes. The shade he would be seeing again.

Very soon.

**

Shion trembled where he sat, out of cold, fear and sheer misery.

He was back at the pond where he and Nezumi had visited, only the other night. The frog that had taken him was squatting on a rock just a few inches above him, overseeing the preparations. A mass of green bodies swarmed below, churning the waters surface.

_A palace_ the frog had croaked, terrifying Shion. _A glorious home for us. You will make a most beautiful queen._

And Shion had tried, oh so very hard, to explain that he couldn’t. He’d cried and begged the frog to let him go home, he’d said he needed to see his mother. He’d even pointed out that he couldn’t live underwater. All his pleas had been ignored. _This is your home. I and all my family are building you a palace. You should be grateful!_

He hadn’t dared mention Nezumi. He doubted the frog would take it well and Nezumi was now the only bit of hope he had left. The only thing that could potentially surprise the frog. The only person who could possibly rescue him.

Shion frowned suddenly. He looked at himself, huddled on a rock, arms wrapped around his legs and tear-stained face buried in his knees. Why was he acting like this? He’d been outside before! Only once, granted, but still. Just because Nezumi had more experience than he did, at the very least he ought to be able to get away from these horrible creatures. He should at least try once, not just give up immediately and cry like some weak child.

The boy looked around, new resolve burning in his red eyes. He was going to try, and try, and try, and try, and only when there was absolutely nothing left for him to do would he give up and wait to be saved. Or resign himself to a life of misery.

It was coming up to dawn, he could tell by the colour of the sky through the gaps in the trees. And these frogs were nocturnal. All he had to do was wait for them to fall asleep, and he could try to slip away. It wasn’t the cleverest plan, but it was only the first one. And he doubted anything would happen even if he didn’t succeed. The frog was vile, and intimidating but it clearly… wanted him, so he didn’t think he would come to any real harm.

Shion leaned back against the rocks, looking up at the sky and waiting for dawn to break.

_I will leave. I will see my mother and Nezumi again._

_I will leave this place._


	16. Chapter 16

When the sun rose, the frogs slept. As soon as the last pair of yellow eyes shut, Shion stood. His limbs were stiff and shaky, and his first real problem was persuading his body to move properly. He took quiet, timid steps away from the sleeping frogs and towards a gap in the trees.

The sun shone down through the branches, creating small golden pools on the forest floor that he instinctively sought out, needing the warmth on his cold pale skin. When he felt he was finally out of earshot he began to run. Tripping over roots and stumbling through piles of red-brown leaves he ran as far and fast he possibly could, until he couldn’t even manage another step.

Shion looked around at his new surroundings. He had left the pond. Unfortunately, he hadn’t realised until just then that ‘not the pond’ didn’t necessarily mean home. Shion fell to his knees on the leaf-littered forest floor, feeling the damp of the soil beneath. A river bubbled softly in front of him, barring his way forward. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down, feeling utterly lost and miserable.

It had not once occurred to him to go in a specific direction when leaving the frogs. He simply hadn’t thought that far ahead. All he’d been thinking was that he had to get _away_. Now he could be even further from home than he had been before, and he had no real way of knowing. No chance of learning the right direction. No one to tell him if anyone was looking for him.

_Both Mom and Nezumi will look for me_ he thought firmly. He had no doubt of that.

_But who says they’ll find you?_ A voice asked unpleasantly. _It’s a big, big world after all…_

Shion blinked rapidly, staring hard at the ground, trying to hold the tears back through sheer force of will.

“Why do I have to be so small?” he asked the river. The rippling reflection gazed back at him with helpless red eyes and didn’t answer. If only he had wings. He’d wished for wings almost as much as he’d once wished to be human sized. He could have simply flown above the trees and seen which direction his house was in. Walking he could hardly see over the top of the grass.

Shion rose to his feet suddenly, turning away from the river. The trees stood tall, but their bark was gnarled and knotted. Some even had ivy creeping around the trunks, forming a natural green trellis that reached all the way up to some of the topmost branches.

The white-haired boy smiled. He brushed away the unshed tears and forest dirt. Yes, having wings or being large would have made this easier. But that didn’t mean he was going to sit and do nothing. He wasn’t the type to wallow in self-pity. He would just find another way to do things.

He put a lot of consideration into which tree he would climb. It wasn’t going to be an easy task and he didn’t want to waste any time or energy on one that was too short or smooth. It had to be climbable, reach over the other trees and hopefully not house any animals. Nezumi might enjoy speaking with the wild creatures of the woods, but Shions encounter with the frogs had completely put him off trying to befriend anyone. At least for the time being. He didn’t think that every animal he met would want to kidnap him, but just then he didn’t want to run the risk.

The tree he settled on wasn’t too far from the river. It towered over the other trees, with thick branches that reached far and a trunk that was practically covered in green vines. Shions vision was limited from the ground, but he couldn’t see any evidence of animals or birds using it for a home.

The sky was a pale autumn blue and the sun was nearing its height. Mid-morning then, or close to noon. He pulled down a few flowers and drank the dew that remained on the petals, eating the leaves that he knew to be edible. He hadn’t realised just how hungry and thirsty he was until he took the first sip. It was a new feeling. Not one his life with his mother had prepared him for.

When he was done he stood up and wiped his mouth on the hem of his dress. He looked down ruefully at the tattered garment. His pretty red sash was practically torn in half, and at least a third of his dress was grey and covered in dirt.

Shion sighed and pulled the sash off all together. He took the less ragged half and tied it round his waist again, the knot was strained but it held. The rest of it he tore once again and wrapped round his hands in preparation for the climb. He knew that they would suffer, so any protection he could give them would have to be enough.

The sun was getting higher. He had to reach the top before it went down entirely. He watched the sunset every night from his window. So hypothetically, if he went the other way he should find home.

Shion smiled. He allowed himself a little fantasy of reaching the top of the tree and finding a large black bee with a silver eyed-boy astride it waiting for him. It made his heart beat faster, and his tired body suddenly eager to take on the monumental task.

He gripped the thick green stem and pulled himself up slowly, keeping that little picture in front of his eyes and reaching for it with every fresh step upward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so obviously it's been a ridiculously long amount of time since I last posted. I was considering giving up on this fic altogether, but just the other day I got a couple kudos, so decided to come back and finish it. This chapter here was the last one I had written but never got around to posting. 
> 
> Hopefully none of you are too annoyed at me for taking so long and not leaving an explanation/discontinuation.
> 
> I had an incident a few weeks ago where I ended up suffering some temporary nerve damage to my right arm (doesn't help that I'm right-handed, seriously jealous of ambidextrous people now) and ended up struggling to do a lot of normal things, up to and including typing. I honestly never realised how absolutely useless my left hand is until that happened, lol. 
> 
> Anyway, my hand is basically better now, and the fact that people are still reading this and showing me that they like it has made me so happy that I decided to come back to it. I'm not sure how long it will take me but I will do my best to keep the gaps between each chapter short like I was trying to do earlier. There's only a few more to go, if I can stick to my damn outline for once. 
> 
> Lots of love to everyone, sorry for the wait xx


	17. Chapter 17

Nezumi was panting heavily. He’d flown till he was on the brink of exhaustion looking for Shion. Every animal he’d questioned had yielded nothing. No-one, it seemed, knew who would have held any interest in a wingless fae.

Time had run out and desperation was setting in. He knew he had to ask; he’d had no choice but doing so had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He’d been so careful to keep even the slightest hint of Shions existence hidden from the Court, and now he was flying around the forest telling everyone and anyone about him. But how else could he possibly find him? Besides that one scrap of ribbon there was nothing, no clues or evidence to indicate what had happened to his - to Shion.

They’d given him a location, at least. No specifics, but someone knew someone else who’d heard such and such about a stir up at the north pond over the river. The frogs had been moving around the forest, further than they normally went, and the beetles had been chittering about a ‘pale, red-eyed beauty’ on the rocks.

It hadn’t been hard to connect the dots. That stupid trip of his. For all he’d congratulated himself on keeping Shion hidden from the Court, he hadn’t bothered to hide him from the rest of the forest. Now the white-haired boy had half the wild ones gossiping about him, and it was all Nezumis fault.

They’d never taken any interest in the Fae, never had any issues outside of occasional territorial disputes which were quickly resolved by their superior weapons and intelligence. He belatedly realised that that had likely only fostered centuries of resentment, and that a wingless, untrained fae with unparalleled beauty was a highly desirable target for the lecherous creatures. He felt sick just thinking about it.

The sun was high now, it was at least one hour after midday. Nezumi flew through the ivy-covered trees, scanning the ground for any sign of movement. He stopped flying when he reached a river, plummeting down to the bank. Wingless Shion couldn’t have made it past the rushing water.

Of course, that argument rested solely on the assumption that whatever had taken Shion had no means of crossing rivers. If it had been the frogs, they would likely still be at the pond, but that was a hell of a lot more flying, and he was near to collapsing already. His gossamer wings sagged and weakly fluttered behind him, looking all too thin and fragile in the light of day. Shion had once asked how they could possibly hold him up, when they looked so flimsy. Nezumi was just now seeing what he meant. The crumpled translucent ovals with spiderweb veins and little to no muscles probably should not have been able to hold up an entire body. It was probably some form of magic he’d never bothered to learn.

Magic. That would be useful in this situation. Not the fighting, or the sleight of hand, or the song of his mothers people. The cruel, creepy magic of the court would have helped him here. The spells that they used to mark each other that he’d always found invasive, or the possession of the wild animals for spying, or any of the other shit they pulled. The stuff he’d decided he didn’t have time for.

Nezumi sighed. He was wasting time, precious time, sitting here and lamenting what he didn’t have. As though that would solve anything. He stood up and stretched, lifting his arms high above his head and forcing his wings as high as they could go. He made for the gap in the trees, beginning the hour-long flight to the north pond. It hurt, but he pushed past the pain. Imagining a smiling, red-eyed boy with fluffy white hair just waiting for him to come and find him.


	18. Chapter 18

Shion was breathing heavily. Sweat was dripping into his eyes.

He had gotten a lot further than he had expected to. Two thirds of the tree that had loomed taller than a mountain was now below him and he was getting closer to the top of the canopy. Unfortunately, the higher he climbed the further the sun sank. By the time he reached the top the daylight would be gone, and he would likely have no hope of seeing where he was. Climbing back down in the dead of night was out of the question.

Why on Earth had he thought that climbing a giant tree was a good idea?

When he finally reached the upper branches, spindly twigs that easily bore his weight, the sun had disappeared completely and a sliver of a crescent moon was feebly shining down. Shion sat down heavily and leaned back against the trunk of the tree, letting the exhaustion sink into his bones.

It was too much just now. Too much to move, or to think of what to do next. He just needed to rest for a bit. Sit and wait.

After a few minutes, a faint buzzing sounded over his breathing. Shion looked up, red eyes full of hope.

It wasn’t Nezumi.

A large, bottle-green beetle was hovering above the branch he was on, staring at him with unreadable multi-faceted eyes. Shion shivered and curled his knees up, leaning as far back as he could. The beetle settled down onto the branch, folded its wings and started to crawl closer. Shions heart was racing. It was almost twice his size and clicking unpleasantly.

It stood over him, clicking and rolling its eyes, seemingly looking him up and down repeatedly. Shion shuddered when a large, black claw reached out and touched his chin, tilting his head up. He felt sick and tired and scared all at once. The realisation that he had nowhere to go was settling in with a cold finality.

 _Beautiful_ the beetle hissed, and Shion felt that he might cry.


	19. Chapter 19

Technically not as bad as the frogs had been, but it was hard to remember them, being so high and far away from anything.

The beetle brought him water droplets to drink and berries to eat. He flew away during the day and returned with gifts of flowers and mangled insects, all the while repeatedly assuring Shion of his great beauty. Clicking and staring and hovering until Shion felt sick.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Other beetles would fly by, apparently having heard the tale ‘his’ beetle was spreading. Each came too close, stared and declared that the bug was out of his mind to be entranced with such an ugly little creature. One even asked Shion what he had done to trick the poor creature into thinking he was anything worth looking at. Apparently it was obscene.

Shion didn’t know what to do. He didn’t dare try to climb down the tree again, the wind had picked up too much to try and neither the beetle nor his disapproving friends/family would help him down. He couldn’t get any sort of message out, he couldn’t reason with his captors.

And while he had seen all manner of talking creatures below him, he had yet to see one single fairy. The air was getting colder with every day that passed. It was probably going to snow soon, and Nezumi had been very clear. Fairies can’t fly in the snow. Can’t risk the cold freezing and cracking their wings.

Shion hadn’t thought, at the time of the frogs, that he would ever feel more helpless, but here he was.

***

Something was different today, he could tell. The beetle (who had never given a name) was standing back for once, instead of pressing uncomfortably close.

“I don’t know what you did,” he said, clicking and rolling his eyes about. “But my friends were right. You are not the beauty I thought you were.”

Shion had had quite enough of being called ugly. But he was too cold and weak to bother saying anything about, so he just sat in a quiet little huddle.

The beetle almost seemed to be glaring at him. Perhaps he truly blamed him for his own lapse in judgement. Shion didn’t know. He didn’t care.

It opened its wings and shook the whole branch before taking off, likely just to scare him one last time before abandoning him to the elements. However, the cold had weakened him. Enough to make his movements slower, so instead of reaching out to hold himself in place like he normally would, he barely got his arms unfolded before he fell.

The wind rushed past him. His heart started pounding against his ribcage, and Shion saw his vision begin to blacken at the edges.

Whump.

Something soft. Was it snow? Had he fallen all the way to the bottom and landed in a drift? No. this was warm. Warm and dry and almost… ticklish. And somehow still moving. Shion clumsily reached out a hand to try and make sense of the situation. He was vaguely reminded of his mothers feather pillow, but he couldn’t work out why it would be flying through the forest. Or why it was blue.

He fell asleep in the feathery mass, still puzzling the situation.


	20. Chapter 20

“So how does it feel?” Shion asked quietly, running a finger over the very edge of Nezumis wing. It shivered slightly at the attention. “Is it just like the rest of your skin?”

“Pretty much” he answered. “Just a little more… sensitive.” He was sat cross-legged on the table, shirt in his lap. Shion knelt behind him, with the book open nearby so he could compare Nezumi’s to the wings in his story.

His head was bowed, hair falling over his left shoulder. Shion remembered the flickering candlelight playing over the lean muscles of his back, and the intricate network of silver veins in his wings. He’d been so fascinated by them; he’d hardly noticed how tense Nezumi had sounded.

Somehow, in his dream, he went further than he had ever dared in real life. Running his hands from the base of each wing to the tips that extended past Nezumis shoulders. Sliding a single finger from the nape of Nezumis neck to the base of his spine, causing him to sit bolt upright.

And Nezumi turned round so fast Shion could barely register more than a flash of silver eyes before his own closed. Nezumi was kissing him, harder and more demanding than Shion had ever known. Nezumis flat, toned chest was pressed against his abdomen, his own legs were straddling the kneeling boy, falling open when he felt himself being pushed back onto a soft pile of feathers…

Wait. Shion didn’t have a feather bed. And why was it so windy?

Shion gasped as his eyes shot open, taking in the trees and clouds blurring as he flew past them from where he sat on.. the back of a bird.

“Ah, you’re awake!” a cheerful voice cried out. He looked up and saw the bird had turned round briefly, expression unreadable through the sharp little beak. It started to fly faster, Shion let out a little whimper and grabbed a fistful of feathers.

“Got the fright of my life when you dropped onto my back!” the bird continued, oblivious to or uncaring of Shions discomfort. “Thought you were a hawk or something! Then I turn around and see a little wingless fairy! Could not _believe_ my eyes…”

The bird prattled on for some time, while Shion clung on for dear life. Eventually, it decided to land, alighting on a low branch in a little glade. Shion slid off and sat heavily on the forest floor. The bird continued to talk while preening it’s feathers. Shion sat quietly, waiting for the feeling to return to his frozen limbs.

It was difficult. The grass he sat on was coated in a layer of frost. As soon as the numbness left him the biting cold returned. All the while the bird prattled on.

Shion could easily imagine Nezumi becoming annoyed with the chatter. But it was nice to hear someone talking to him kindly, without simultaneously declaring their need to love and imprison him.

The sun peeked out over the tops of the trees. Shion smiled at the little glimmer of light.


	21. Chapter 21

“So,” the bird asked, looking at Shion over his shoulder. “Need me to drop you off anywhere?”

Shion brightened immediately. “Can you take me home?”

The bird stared at him blankly. Shion felt his smile start to fade.

“And your home is… where exactly?” the bird asked kindly.

“Oh it’s-” he stopped. He looked around the little frosted glade. There was nothing to suggest where they were. In relation to his cottage, the pond, or any of the places he’d been to. He’d been asleep, passed out even when he landed on the bird. He had no idea how long they’d flown for, or in which direction.

Shion looked up at the sky. The sun was going down, and the stars would soon be visible. Which didn’t help in the slightest as Shion didn’t know any of the constellations or their positions in relation to his house.

“I don’t know” he admitted quietly. He pulled his knees up to his chest and bowed his head, desperately willing himself not to cry. The first person he’d met who was willing to help him, and neither of them knew how.

“I mean, I could take you to the Vale, if that’s where you’re from. You don’t look like a Vale Fae, if I’m being honest, no offence or anything! Just noticing, but obviously I know you’re not _all_ from the same place and-”

Shions head snapped up. “The Vale?”

That was where Nezumi was from, he was sure of it. or rather, that was where Nezumi was ‘being forced to stay’, as he’d often told him. The place full of liars and backstabbers, who cared more about petty politics and staying in power than anything else. The people who absolutely couldn’t find out about Shion, under any circumstances.

 _Then again_ , he thought, smiling ruefully. _Nezumi probably never thought of circumstances quite like these._

“Have you never seen any cottages nearby? Human ones?” Shion tried. The bird shook his head and stuck his beak in his cerulean feathers.

“Tend to steer clear of them. No good comes from going near humans.” He gave Shion a shrewd look. “Didn’t think fairies went near them either.”

“I’m different” Shion said quietly. He wouldn’t hide anything now. What was the worst that could happen, at this point?

The sun had almost completely disappeared. Just a thin line of gold on the horizon, the pink-purple sky slowly deepening to a midnight blue. They wouldn’t be flying anywhere till morning.

Shion used the last of the light to put together a small mossy bed for himself, and a larger bed for the bird, who seemed surprised but grateful. Shion didn’t see the big deal. The bird had kindly flown him, for goodness knows how long before he woke up, and then offered to fly him elsewhere as well. It was the least he could do, after sitting for so long.

They both settled in for the night. The bird was as lively as he had been since Shion woke, and Shion was feeling more energised than he had in a while. Not fully himself, but enough for a little conversation.

“Yeah, I’m flying south for the winter. Obviously I’m a little late” he muttered, looking at the frost around them with distaste. “But I’ll get there eventually. And none of the women ever want me anyway, so it’s not too urgent that I get there with everyone else. Just need to clear out before the snow sets in.”

Shion smiled and mm-hmmed to all the unasked for information, looking up at the sky. He pulled the fallen feather the bird had given him for a coverlet up to his chest and turned onto his side.

“Won’t it set you back then? Helping me?”

The bird laughed brightly. “And the trouble I’d get in for leaving a Fae stranded? In the dead of winter?! I might be reckless but I don’t have a death wish, little one.”

Shion blinked. One of the things Nezumi frequently cited when he complained about the Fae was the way they treated those they considered ‘lesser’. Shion hadn’t really understood. Thought he was just talking about humans.

Apparently the situation with the Court was a lot more complicated than Shion had thought. But really, what choice did he have? They were his only link to Nezumi, and goodness knows he had no chance of finding his mother. It did make him realise how awfully limited his life was, having only two people in the whole world that he knew. That he could rely on.

“Well it’s three now, little one” the bird snorted, when he voiced as much. Shion smiled.

They spent half the night talking, Shion feeling comfortable enough to tell the bird how exactly he’d ended up falling onto him. The bird had been sympathetic to his ‘plight’ and had sworn that he would do all he could to get Shion to the Vale of the Fairies. Shion had smiled and thanked the bird profusely, inwardly hoping that Nezumi wouldn’t be too annoyed at him for dropping in unannounced. He was sure if he explained, Nezumi would understand. And hopefully take him home.

He still hadn’t quite let go of the hope that Nezumi was in fact looking for him. Of course, this massively conflicted with his hope that Nezumi was staying home, where the cold weather had no chance of damaging his wings. The last thing Shion wanted was Nezumi to get hurt on his behalf.


	22. Chapter 22

Nezumi was hurt. Badly.

He stumbled over an exposed tree root, falling to his knees and sending shockwaves of pain though his body. His ragged wings fluttered uselessly against his back. Harsh, cold air filled his lungs. Snowflakes settled on his eyelashes. Blurred eyes fixed on reddened fingers pressed against the snowy ground. It was everywhere, around him, inside him, seeping in and dulling his senses. Urging him to lie down and give up.

It was just too cold. For anyone, even a human would have struggled in this weather. A lone Fae with next to no magic didn’t stand a chance.

_If it’s this bad for you, just think about-_

No. He refused to dwell on it for even a moment. The only thing keeping him going was the knowledge that Shion was out there, that he needed help. If he let himself believe that was no longer the case… well.

Nezumi took a long, painful breath. He forced himself to stand. Every movement made him tremble. He would have scowled at his own weakness, if his face hadn’t been half-frozen. Brittle leaf skeletons snapped under his feet.

He walked forward, not sure of his direction, but sure that he had to keep going. As long as he kept moving he’d be fine.

The ground was invisible. He didn’t see when the forest floor changed to ice. Couldn’t hear the cracking surface over the howling wind. Couldn’t understand why the ground was splitting beneath him.

Icy water filled his lungs, darkness claimed his eyes. As his awareness faded, he almost thought he heard Shions laughter.

 _I’m sorry_ he thought, as he was swallowed by the ice.

The bird swooped low again, tips of his wings brushing the snowy ground, startling another laugh from the white-haired boy on his back. Shion held on with one hand, reaching up to scoop up a few snowflakes with the other. They looped over and rose above the branches again, swerving and twirling until Shion protested out of dizziness. He laughed again, heart filling with pure joy. This was the most fun he’d had since he’d been taken.

They spent the whole day flying through the snow, pausing now and then to drink from the river or pick at leftover winterberries. As the sun started to set they alighted in a little grove of brambles. Shion sat next to a little junk pile, sorting through the little cache of food he’d wrapped in what remained of his red sash. The bird flew in lazy circles overhead, brushing against branches and swooping through small gaps in the thicket.

He looked over at the scattered bits of rubbish, no doubt left by travelling humans; getting a fright when he saw his reflection in a chipped bit of mirror on the bank. His hair was wild and dirty, clothes ragged and lips a bloody red. What would his mother think if she could see the state of him? Or Nezumi?

Shion shook his head to clear it and smiled ruefully. It didn’t matter how much of a mess he looked. First he and the bird had to find the Vale. Then he had to somehow convince a lot of sleeping Fae to wake up from their winter sleep. If Nezumi was with them, he had to get him to take him home. If not, he had to ask a group of ‘petty, conniving, ladder-climbing _pricks’_ (Nezumi’s words) to take him to his mothers house. His _human_ mothers house. Who was on no account, in any situation, to ever be put in contact with the Fae.

Oh well. It could always be worse.

As soon as the thought formed, he heard a shriek. Shion turned just in time to see him fall from the sky, landing on the snowy bank with a soft _whump._ He ran forward, fighting his way through the cold drifts.

The closed yellow beak was pointed straight upward, bright eye now dull and unseeing. Shion fell to his knees and half reached out, hesitant to touch the frightfully still creature. His eyes widened in horror as he saw a line of red trickling from the splayed wings.

The black thorn stood tall in the mass of soft blue feathers, twice as long as Shions arm and almost as thick as his body. Even if he _could_ pull it out he didn’t know if he should. Was that the right thing to do? Should he wait?

 _Wait for what!_ A bitter voice in his head demanded, as he wrapped his arms around his knees. He had no-one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why study for an important exam when you could be writing mediocre fanfiction?
> 
> Oh well. Hope you enjoyed the fruit of my procrastination. x


	23. Chapter 23

Shion was sobbing quietly when she came to him. A fat little brown mouse who stroked her whiskers and appraised him with beady black eyes. The snow was falling thick and fast, and she was offering hospitality. She’d come all this way, braved the bad weather, at her advanced age to give him shelter. A complete stranger! The very least he could do was get up and greet her properly.

“Honestly,” she huffed, twitching her nose irritably.

He scrubbed at his face with the ragged hem of his dress, probably making himself even more of a mess. As he tried to stand his legs shook horribly. The sky was dark and speckled with stars. He must have been sat there for hours, freezing to death while paralysed with helplessness. How utterly miserable.

When she told him to gather his things and follow her he turned back to look at the bird. As still as before, now half buried in the snow.

“I should leave him, if I were you. He’s most likely dead or will be soon. Nothing we can do for him at any rate.” She huffed again and shoved her paws into the pocket of her frilly pink apron.

Shion still wouldn’t move. _Couldn’t_ move. How could he leave the first creature who’d shown him any kindness, after a forest full of cruelty? Lying in the snow, alone, so far from any of his own kind. Because he’d offered to _help_ Shion.

They argued a little. Or rather, the mouse argued and Shion started to cry until she relented. Not his most dignified moment, but any pride he might have had was long lost. Eventually she consented to let Shion drag the half-frozen bird back to her home, where he was promptly pushed away into the passage that connected her home to a network of underground tunnels used by the burrowers of the forest.

As miserable as he was, Shion couldn’t help but feel his spirits lift at the feeling of being _indoors_ again. The fire was warm, the chair soft and he felt as though the wind and cold were far away things. They couldn’t touch him here.

A slight prickle of dread made him sit up, even though nothing had happened. Shion looked around the room warily. The mouse was busying herself at the table, setting out two plates with seedcakes and some of the berries Shion had picked, humming to herself. The door was shut tight, he couldn’t hear anything coming from the passage.

This was silly. He was allowed to feel a little safe, surely? Yes he’d been… unlucky recently. More than unlucky. But that didn’t mean that something bad would happen every time he felt comfortable enough to hope. He could at least allow himself this one-

“Food’s ready!” the mouse called, and Shion gratefully rushed over to the table. It would be good to eat something hot.

He allowed himself to properly take in the little dwelling while the mouse talked, chattering inanely about all the local gossip. Families uprooted by encroaching humans, a recent and unaccountable influx of toads, a recently widowed mole, it seemed the little rodent knew anything and everything about the comings and goings of the forest creatures.

Shion listened politely to the talk of people he had never heard of, about matters he couldn’t begin to understand, or even care about. It was, as she had said, the least he could do.

Of course, he would regret that too.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sweet, fluffy fairy story has dissolved into an angst-ridden mess.

The least he could do turned out to be quite a lot, but Shion didn’t mind. It helped to keep busy.

So he spent all his waking hours cleaning, cooking and sewing for his rodent host. Working until his fingers developed callouses, until his skin paled and his eyes reddened (further). He couldn’t deny that it was interesting to work with implements that were actually fashioned for someone his size. The functioning tools were leagues ahead of the little wooden replicas from his mothers dollhouse.

Days passed in this manner. Shion would wake, work and sleep. He was granted a small portion of each day to tend to the bird, who had yet to stir. The shrewd creature likely knew he wouldn’t continue to help her if he wasn’t allowed at least that.

He’d used his red sash and some cotton from his mattress to fashion a little red pillow for the bird and made sure to drip some water down his beak every day. But if it weren’t for the steady thrumming heartbeat under the mass of feathers, Shion would probably have believed him dead. He missed his chatter.

Several weeks into the harsh winter, he had almost fully adjusted to his new life. He had almost forgotten his mother, certain that he would never see her again. Nezumi lingered in the recesses of his mind, as nothing more than a promise to let himself think about him in the spring. When the fairies would fly again.

A draft blew in, knocking his carefully folded pile of clothes to the floor. He winced as the mouse rushed in and slammed the door, making the walls shake slightly. She shook her head vigorously, letting snowflakes fall from her grey whiskers.

Shion hurried over at once to take her coat and pull out her chair, the teapot already set out on the little table. He set out a little plate of corn cakes and sat opposite her, ready to hear the latest in forest gossip.

“You won’t believe what I heard today” she said, leaning forward in a conspiratorial whisper, as though anyone would ever listen to their conversation. Or Shion would even know what she was talking about.

“Some children were skating on the old frozen pond, not safe at all, no matter how cold it is but does anyone ever listen to me?”

Shion nodded, picking at his cake.

“Anyway, they were skating, and one of them falls over, tripped on something sticking out of the ice. Everyone thinks it’s a twig, only they all get closer and… it’s _white.”_

Shion frowned and looked up from his pile of crumbs.

“And well, they’ve gathered a bit of a crowd by then, and I heard this straight from a _very_ reliable source, they all scraped off the frost and had a look and it’s a fairy! A full grown fae, frozen solid in the pond! Have you ever heard anything like it!”

Shion replied that he hadn’t.

“I’m off to see tomorrow, so I can give the Mole a proper accounting of it. But _everyone’s_ saying it’s the spitting image of the kings little bastard. Wouldn’t be surprised either, that ones known to be a bit wild. They say he got it from his mother’s side…..”

Her words faded into nothingness, drowned out by the ringing in his ears. His hands had stilled completely, threatening to shatter the delicate porcelain cup he held.

He was surprised at how composed he was able to remain. Sitting still through all her blathering, responding appropriately, keeping up with his chores all through the horrible, incessant _noise_ that refused to leave him. It sounded like buzzing, or a magnified silence. It hurt, just a little.

The fire was down to it’s last few embers when the mouse went to bed, and Shion settled on his little pallet in the corner. He pulled the sheets all the way up to his neck, and then over his head, but he couldn’t block out the sound. Eventually, he got up and crept into the tunnel, ignoring the draft to lie down next to the cold body of his bird. He flung a blanket over him and settled down in the gap between his wing and body. Not to sleep, he knew he wouldn’t. But there was a small scrap of comfort in being next to the last creature to ever care for him.

Now that all others were gone.

When he waited for her to return the next day, there was no feeling of dread or anticipation. He knew what he would hear, and all his feelings about it had left, along with any others.

Shion just felt… hollow.

So he didn’t react to her gleeful confirmation. Or offer up a single protest when she forced him to accompany her on her visit to the Mole.

They travelled through the drafty tunnels, Shion leaving a plate of the ‘imperfect’ cakes next to the birds head, knowing he probably wouldn’t eat them. But otherwise they’d just be thrown away.

Why exactly both he and the mouse had to look so perfect he couldn’t understand. Especially given that she’d told him the creature was blind. But he didn’t have the heart to argue with her.

He followed her obediently, head bowed and mostly silent unless she ever demanded an answer. Which she rarely did, her own voice often being enough to entertain her. From the way she talked about the Mole he gathered that there was something about him that inspired respect, or fear. Or maybe both. She often spoke of his great wealth, and he got the impression that her and many others depended on him for a place to live.

Hopefully she’d spend their visit talking to him, and Shion could just sit in a corner somewhere.

Shion was beginning to realise that whatever he hoped for, whatever he wanted or needed, life would swoop in an ensure that the exact opposite would happen to him.

The Mole had met them when they were halfway to his house and he and the mouse had taken the lead, exchanging pleasantries while Shion followed meekly along. When they arrived, however, the conversation suddenly turned to him. Shion was quizzed on everything, how old he was, where he came from, what he could do. It was exhausting.

He tried to keep to quick, one word answers, being curt without being rude, but they almost seemed to prefer him that way. The afternoon was interminably long.

When it was finally over, they made their way back through the now freezing tunnels. The walk back seemed twice as long as the walk there. The mouse seemed unusually positive, practically _gushing_ about how well Shion had ‘presented himself’. Whatever that meant.

They visited him again and again, each time seeming longer and longer. The Mole and the mouse would gossip while he gave them tours of his expansive home. Long, draughty tunnels leading to small chambers. One filled with coins, silver and bronze with some gold, and a few jewels scattered about. One tunnel was particularly long, morbidly decorated with row after row of pinned butterflies. According to the mouse they ‘brightened the place up’. They made Shion feel sick.

Shion didn’t enjoy these visits, but he didn’t really enjoy anything anymore. He had a feeling he never would. There were only two things he could allow himself to think about. The bird, and spring.

The bird had remained asleep, not dead, not alive, just hovering in the balance. Shion continued to care for him diligently. Like it was his purpose. When spring came and the snow thawed, they would both leave. They had to.

He didn’t know how he would break it to the mouse, but he didn’t really care enough about her to worry too much. If the bird was well and able to fly, they would fly. Either to the fairies or the nearest humans. If not, Shion would walk. Either to the fairies or the nearest humans.

It wasn’t much of a plan. And it wasn’t much of a backup. But it was all he had.

He sat on the rug in front of the little fireplace, between the large grey mole on his wing backed armchair and the little brown mouse on the pink loveseat. He stared into the flames while they talked overhead, brooding and miserable.

“Yes come on Shion” the mouse said, nudging him with her paw.

Shion blinked and looked up at them, not having followed the conversation.

“I’m sorry?” he murmured politely.

“Sing, girl” the Mole demanded, in his raspy, gravelly voice. Shion hated hearing him speak. It sounded like he spent his days gargling dirt.

He also hated being called a girl, but neither he nor the mouse had ever bothered to correct him. Well, Shion had tried, but the mouse had shushed him with a sharp nip to his shoulder.

Shion didn’t want to sing for them. Didn’t want to be in the same room as them. But it would be easier to just go along with it.

At first he didn’t know what to sing. The nursery rhymes his mother had sung to him as a child didn’t feel appropriate. Not in this dark, hollow place. But he knew if he didn’t come up with something soon they wouldn’t be happy.

So he sang a half made up, bastardised version of an old harvest rhyme. It was meant to ask for good weather, but he twisted the ending. There was no weather any more, no changing seasons. Only a cold wind in hollow darkness. His voice felt unsteady, but there were no complaints. There were only two verses and a short chorus, that was meant to be repeated but he didn’t bother. Either they hadn’t heard the normal version, or they were fine with his changes.

The Mole muttered a gruff ‘very good, yes’ when he was finished, and the mouse chittered happily in response, apparently taking full credit for this new ‘talent’ of his. Shion ignored them in favour of gazing into the fire, thinking of a far more beautiful voice that had once sang for him, in a language so strange and yet familiar it had brought tears to his eyes.

He barely registered when they left the room to discuss something out of his hearing. From his spot on the rug he caught a few words. ‘Acceptable’, ‘Payment’ and ‘Soon’ from the Mole, ‘Obedient’, ‘Honour’ and ‘Ceremony’ from the mouse. It wouldn’t have interested him in the slightest had he not also heard them both use his name, the Mole pronouncing it wrong as he always did.

Shion frowned and, with great force of will, made himself get up and move closer to where they were, taking care not to be noticed by either of them. He leaned up against the doorframe and saw the Mole handing the mouse a large silver coin, which she gleefully tucked into her apron.

“I’ll have hi- ah, her ready by next week. I assume we’ll be having the wedding…?”

“In the East wing” the Mole stated firmly in his gravelly voice. “As far away from the sun as possible. And the guest list will be very.. selective. I’ll not have half the non-hibernating forest traipsing around my home.”

“Of course not” she assured hurriedly. She paused and straightened out her skirts in a coy manner that irritated Shion no end. “I do hate to presume my dear but I would so like to see little Shion off properly. Only if it suits you, I would love to be there.”

“No, no you must come.”

“You are just too kind-“

Shion turned away and went back to his place on the rug. He couldn’t stand to hear another word.

How was it that there was still another hideous creature set on marrying him?


	25. Chapter 25

The tears didn’t start to fall until after they had left, but the mouse didn’t notice. Shion kept a few paces behind her, with his eyes firmly trained on the ground.

She was ecstatic, so much so she didn’t make a single snide comment when they passed the comatose bird on their way home. Too busy exclaiming about how wonderfully everything was coming together. Telling Shion how happy he must be. As though he didn’t know his own mind and needed someone to lay it out for him every few minutes. Perhaps he did. He certainly felt he had forgotten himself entirely.

She handed him the empty plate when they walked through the door and herded him over to the sink. Shion was quick to bury himself in chores, needing a distraction from his miserable thoughts. The water swirled and bubbled around his hands. It looked pretty in the orange firelight. He sighed. He probably wouldn’t be seeing anything truly beautiful anymore. Not if he was to spend the rest of his life confined to those dark tunnels.

Before bed, the mouse had forced him into a wedding dress, a gaudy, ungainly thing that Shion hated. He continued to wear it, the effort of getting into it had tired him out completely, and he would only have to put it back on the next morning anyway.

He spent the rest of the evening wallowing in melancholy, discarding escape plans as soon as they formed. None of them were compatible with the weather outside. And by all accounts – or rather, the mouse’s account – it was truly terrible. They were both lucky to be inside and away from it.

It was long into the night that the significance of the empty plate finally hit him, the realisation like an arrow shot between his eyes. Shion gasped and threw the covers off of himself, rising in the darkness to rush forward, ignoring the fact that he could barely move or see. It didn’t matter. The ghost of a smile played about his lips.

He was careful to tiptoe past the mouse’s bedroom, having no desire to wake her. A glimmer of moonlight shone through the cracks in her ceiling, allowing him to glean a path forward. He carefully gathered up his meagre belongings, along with a small stash of food. The mouse would have enough to see her through the winter. And well, Shion was rather past caring if she didn’t.

The door creaked loudly as he opened it, setting his heart beating so fast he was afraid he’d be caught by the sound of it. Luckily, he heard nothing from her room but a faint snoring. He shook his head almost fondly and slipped through into the tunnel.

For whatever reason, it didn’t feel quite as cold as it had only a few hours earlier. He crept forward to where he’d left the bird and…

Nothing.

The pillow and the blanket he’d made were both there, but there wasn’t a single sign that the bird had ever been there. Not even a feather.

Shion blinked roundly, feeling utterly stumped.

“Gotcha!” a cheery, if a little raspy voice sounded behind him. Shion let out a horrible shriek and jumped, turning round as he did so.

Standing upright, blue head brushing the top of the passage, was the bird, wide awake and preening. Shion leapt forward and threw his arms around the birds head, crying and laughing into the soft feathers. The bird closed his eyes and wrapped a wing around him.

It took him a while to explain where they both were. The bird was saddened to learn he had missed the migration, and furious when he learned what Shion had gotten himself into.

“No.”

“I’m not sure we can just-”

“Yeah, no. We are leaving _right now_ , little one.”

Shion made a helpless gesture. “We can’t even get out! It took me ages to get you in here, and I don’t think you’ll fit back through the house. She wouldn’t let you in anyway. And we can’t go that way.”

“Why not?” he asked, picking at his feathers.

Shion rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from those shrewd black eyes. “He’s down there” he muttered uncomfortably. The gravelly voiced mole unnerved him at the best of times, and the latest development had made Shion even warier.

The bird had no such hesitations, but seemed reluctant to put Shion in any discomfort, ‘after all you’ve done for me now’. He looked around the seemingly impossible situation and shrugged.

“Have to go the hard way then. Hop on now.”

“What’s the hard way?” Shion asked, carefully climbing onto the birds back, but he was either not heard or ignored. The bird paced up and down the little tunnel, careful not to go too close to either dwelling, until he stopped before a patch of dirt that seemed, at least to Shion, no different than any other patch of dirt. Though the space there did feel a little warmer.

The first peck brought down a shower of dirt on the both of them, Shion struggling to hang on while the bird shook it off. The second loosened a few pebbles, sending them rolling down the tunnel towards the Mole’s house. The third, which was less a peck and more a head-butt, caused something to shift and crack, exposing a root that ran a long line all the way to the mouse. Shion sighed and buried his face in the now dirty feathers. They’d probably both be coming for him now.

Dirt continued to rain down on the both of them, Shion hunching further in while the bird steadily dug his way through the dirt and rocks and roots, until they felt it. They both raised their heads at the feel of fresh, cool air, the first either of them had felt in months. Shion took a huge breath, enjoying the way it filled his lungs. He ducked down quickly when the bird started up the digging again, far more enthusiastic with the taste of the outside.

Shion was feeling lighter and lighter, shouting out words of encouragement, not caring if he would be heard. He ripped off a bit of lace from his dress and wrapped it around his nose and mouth to keep the worst of it from being breathed in. He kept his eyes wide open and trained firmly on the cracks above them that were steadily growing wider and wider until…

Sunlight. The faint, pale yellow of a winter sunrise.


	26. Chapter 26

Earth and stone fell from blue wings as they rose up from the ground. Shion smiled at the feel of the sun on his face, lifting an arm up to feel cool air rush between his fingers.

A single glance was spared for those below him, the large mole squinting angrily and the mouse shaking her little pink fist in fury. Laughter bubbled up from Shions chest and he blew them a kiss before turning and urging the bird to go faster, higher, _faster._

They flew fast and hard, following the vague trail that Shion barely remembered from the stories and gossip he had heard. His heart raced out of fear, exhilaration and a thundering emotion he couldn’t name.

They brushed the tops of branches, dislodging snow that fell to the ground with a wet plop and scattering water droplets everywhere. Winter was nearing its end.

Shion shouted when they saw the frozen pond, that was barely a puddle with a dark shadow in the centre. The bird dipped his head and flew down, pulling up at the last second to glide gently over and land on a soft patch of earth. Shion slid from his back and dusted himself off.

His legs trembled and he felt close to exhaustion. But he knew that if he stopped now he might sleep for hours, and there was work to be done.

“See there?” Shion pointed out to the middle of the ice. “That’s where my friend is.”

The bird shivered and puffed up his feathers, giving them an experimental flap. He clicked his beak warily.

“Ok, so I’ll just fly out to the middle and peck around him a bit while you wait here and I dunno. Try to make a fire or something.”

Shion shook his head. “Even if you weren’t so tired, I’d say no. You’re way heavier than me. I can’t risk losing you too.”

The bird probably would have protested further, but Shion looked -and sounded- more in control than he’d ever heard him.

“Besides, I need you to rest up and watch over me, and only fly over if I fall in. You’ll be able to get me out easily enough, if the worst happens. And then once I’ve got N- him, and you’re well enough, I’ll need you to try and find the Vale. Hopefully there’ll be someone there who can help us.”

The bird had acquiesced and Shion had gotten to work, hitching up his ridiculous wedding dress and belting it high, exposing his legs to the cold but allowing a lot more freedom of movement. He tried to roll his sleeves up, but gave up and ripped them, wrapping the fabric around his hands and using a strip as a makeshift headband to keep his hair out of his eyes. He was fairly sure he looked ridiculous, but that hardly mattered.

The pond was no longer frozen solid. This was both good and bad. On the one hand, Shion appreciated that the ice would likely melt quicker. On the other, he thought grimly as he tentatively lowered his foot to the damp surface, there were some clear disadvantages. He closed his eyes tightly and took a step out, heart racing at the thought of plunging into the frozen depths.

 _Remember who you’re doing this for._ He took a deep breath and another firm step forward. He held a stick (a twig really but to him it was as good as a branch) and used it to prod the ice in front of him. Whenever it pushed too far into the cold surface he would carefully skirt around it, all while trying to maintain as straight a line as he could to the shadow at the centre.

As he got closer he realised the darkness was mostly due to Nezumi’s hair, which had floated above his head and spread out over his form before he froze. He could just about make out his pale face, eyes closed and head bowed as though he had, in his final waking moments resigned himself to his fate. When he finally made it to the end, he could see him in a lot more detail. One hand was raised over head and fully above the surface, not just the fingers as he had previously heard. The ice must have melted more than he thought.

He circled him carefully, trying to work on the best way to get him out without endangering the both of them any more than necessary. When he saw him from behind, he almost cried at the state of his wings. The once beautiful gossamer looking wings with their elaborate vein pattern and prismic colouring now looked like dead leaf skeletons.

Shion scrubbed furiously at his eyes and took a deep breath. There were things to focus on, and that wasn’t it.

He tapped the ice around the frozen fairy, producing a wet echoey sound. From what he could tell, the pond was not frozen solid, but the first few inches were, enough to engulf Nezumi completely. The warming sunlight was beginning to melt the ice from the top as well, so he didn’t have long left.

Shion marked out a rough circle and started to deepen it, turning it into a line, then a groove, then a rut. When he felt it was deep enough and the sun was highest in the sky, he raised the stick high above his head and brought it down with such force both his feet were lifted from the ice. A loud crack shook the little pond as the ice split, following the circle he’d carved and then spiderwebbing outwards.

Shion breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his bridal gown. It had fallen from his haphazard belt and the ice had ripped it to shreds. He carefully angled the stick in the gap and leaned on it, watching in rapt silence as the crack started to widen and the dark blue slowly began to rise above the white line.

He pushed further and further, and the stick bent under his determination and clenched jaw. He could almost feel the veins popping out on his forehead as he strained.

A loud, wet pop sounded, and the lump of ice containing Nezumi shot upwards and bobbed in the carved out hole in the centre of the pond. Icy water from below splashed out and soaked little Shion from head to toe, plastering his white hair to his scalp so he looked like a drowned albino rat.

He panted heavily as he sat there, trying desperately to keep his mind going when all his body wanted to do was collapse into shock at the wave of pure cold that had gripped him. His legs trembled and buckled more than once as he struggled to rise back to his feet.

Luckily his stick was still intact, surprisingly sturdy for a willow branch (twig). He managed to work it into the now considerable gap between the ice block and the frozen surface. When it was deep enough he pushed again. He had to try several different angles before he was able to lever the block out of the pond altogether.

By then the bird had had enough of waiting around and swooped in to pluck Shion up from the broken surface and dumped him on the bed of moss on the bank before circling back to push the frozen fae up to the bank.

As tired as Shion was, he still couldn’t rest. Together he and the bird managed to build a small fire which they pushed the block as close to as possible. When he finally had nothing else to do, Shion curled up opposite and settled in to wait. He fell asleep to the sight of a sharp pale face behind ice and flames.

*

He awoke with a start at the touch of cold water on his face. His first thought immediately turned to the frozen figure in front of him. Who was now no longer frozen, just a small, cold body lying in a puddle opposite the now dead fire. Shion looked around blearily, but the bird was nowhere to be found. He had a vague half memory of briefly being pecked awake and told that the bird was going to look for the Vale but couldn’t remember how long ago it happened.

Shion rose and splashed forward to grab Nezumi, flinching at how cold he was. He steadied himself and slid his arms around his chest, grunting as he lifted him up, to pull him away from the murky ground. Nezumi slumped forward in his arms, and he almost felt he was holding a corpse.

He stepped back and managed to drag him onto dry ground, laying him on a bed of orange leaves between the roots of a gnarled oak. Shion turned Nezumi over to lie on his back and brushed his long wet hair out of his face, though he could not bear to look at it. Instead he started to remove his wet clothes, blushing slightly at the thought but needing to do it for the sake of getting him warm again. Once he had done so, he lay down next to the fairy, his front pressed along his back, a leg over his hip and an arm under his head, to keep his face off the ground.

Not particularly comfortable, but hopefully it would help Nezumi warm up quicker. Though the way the cold was seeping into Shion was less than promising. He shivered, and pressed his face into Nezumi’s cold shoulder, determined to wait it out.

They were so close now.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Thanks to everyone who left kudos, it helped me continue when I was considering abandoning this. I think this story is basically finished now, I'll try to tie up all the loose ends in the next chapter, which honestly might be more of an epilogue or something.

The last thing Nezumi remembered was flying through the forest in the dead of winter, fighting his way through a snowstorm looking for Shion. There was a strong impression of something _cold,_ and after, nothing but dreams and memories and murmurs.

So it was a surprise to him, waking up and feeling alive for the first time in what felt like forever. He had no idea where he was or how he’d come to be there. All his thoughts were a muddled confusing mess. His eyes were taking a long time to open, as if they’d been glued shut. He could just about feel his limbs, but there was only a tingling numbness at the end of them. A part of him almost didn’t want to open his eyes, afraid he’d look down at himself and see that his hands were gone.

As he slowly began to regain his senses (well except his sight), he managed to get a better idea of where he was at least, though he still couldn’t fathom how he’d gotten there.

Lying on his side. It smelled like the woods, sap and leaves and earth, so he was somewhere on the forest floor. Definitely getting warmer. All the heat seemed to be coming from behind him.

No, wait. All the heat was coming from _someone lying_ behind him _._ Right alongside his back. With their arms around his chest, a leg slung over his hip and their face pressed into his shoulder.

Nezumi forced his eyes open and immediately shut them again when they were lanced by horrible sunlight. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and he buried his face in his hands. His woolly mind was slowly knitting itself back together, gathering up all the little stray thoughts that had started when he woke and tying them into some semblance of order.

When he was finally able to open his eyes properly he had to blink rapidly before he could adjust to the winter sun. He vaguely registered a large brown mass directly in front of him, which slowly resolved into a gnarled tree root.

As the feeling returned to his limbs he started to move. Slowly, so as not to wake the sleeping figure behind him. He gingerly untangled their limbs and turned to lie on his front, moving his hands underneath his chest and rising up, arms trembling as they struggled to take his weight. With supreme effort, he pushed upwards and got himself into a kneeling position. The second he looked down he almost keeled over at the sight below him.

Shion. Only it couldn’t be him. White hair spread out on a pile of red and orange sycamore leaves. One hand tucked under his chin, the other lying limp from where Nezumi had crawled out from underneath it. The most beautiful, peaceful expression on his face that Nezumi had ever seen. And. Wait. What the _hell_ -

Shion’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Nezumi’s gasp and he was stunned into silence again. He smiled slowly and sat up, eyes displaying the cautious joy he himself had felt on waking and seeing him. The leaves rustled and crunched underneath him as he drew up to kneel in front of him, before looking away shyly.

He immediately sprang forward (as much as he could in his weakened state) and threw his arms around him, clutching tight and pressing his face into his hair. Shion tentatively but warmly returned the embrace and they spent a good few minutes just holding each other. Breathing and feeling and _knowing._

After a while Nezumi pulled back, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them again and seeing a very concerned look on Shions face.

“Shion” he croaked softly, voice hoarse after weeks of disuse, “are you- are you wearing a _wedding dress?_ ”

“Oh! Um, well, you see” Shion stammered, looking down and tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s, well, it’s a bit of a long story..” he trailed off and looked up uncertainly.

Nezumi felt nothing but confused. All he remembered was seeing Shion missing, looking for him, and then nothing after falling into the water. Apparently he’d missed a lot.

He tucked his ragged wings in and moved to sit with his back against the tree and held his arms out. Shion looked surprised, all this open physical affection was probably a little out of character for him. At least not without a lot of snark and flirting. But Nezumi was too tired (and far too happy) to care. Shion quickly snuggled up to him, tucking up his legs under the remains of his dress and lying with his head resting on Nezumi’s chest. Nezumi smiled softly and let a hand card through Shion’s dandelion soft hair.

They lay together like that for a while, watching the sun go down between the trees and recounting what had happened to each of them during their separation. Nezumi had tensed to hear all that Shion had been through. If he hadn’t been so weak he felt he might have gone on a rampage against the forest for subjecting him to so much. Shion felt guilty that Nezumi had gotten trapped while looking for him. They both resolved to make their way back to Karan as soon as they were physically able. She’d been alone the whole winter and the thought made both of them miserable.

The bird still hadn’t returned and the both of them were too exhausted to really do anything, so they simply didn’t move and fell asleep entwined under the tree, silently revelling in the fact that they’d found each other.


End file.
